


for always

by cyclothimic



Category: Glee
Genre: Alternate Universe - Bodyguard, Bodyguard, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-04
Updated: 2015-01-04
Packaged: 2018-03-05 09:25:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 22
Words: 119,764
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3114785
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cyclothimic/pseuds/cyclothimic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>who would have thought after four years of not meeting because of certain diva's leaving and certain blonde's decision to join the army, they will meet again? their meeting, however, is nothing casual or accidental. Rachel Berry's life might be in danger and it is Quinn's responsibility to ensure her safety.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Luck or Coincidence

She struggled to keep the military aircraft balanced in the air as dozens of cannon shots and whatever those green lights were flew up in the air around her. She took a deep calming breath and cursed her headphones mentally. Of all times, they had to stop working  _now_. She had lost communications with the headquarters and she was left on her own. Truly alone.

The aircraft's missiles were long gone. She had used them when she infiltrated one of the military stations somewhere on the east side an hour ago. The craft rattled as a shot hit it and she knew that one of the wings was busted. Usually when one of the wings was busted, that meant everything was over for the pilot and passengers; but Quinn was nothing if not stubborn. She refused to give in to it and she quickly looked around herself, arms aching from pulling on the steering with as much force as she could. She clenched her jaw and suppressed a groan of pain, and kept pulling and pulling.

Nothing. There was absolutely nothing to be used to save her. She was at a dead end.

She turned back to the front and saw – she didn't know if she should call it luck or just simple coincidence – but there was a  _flat_  terrain that was long and wide enough in front of her for the aircraft to land – or crash. She let out a laugh and exerted more force into pulling the plunging head of the craft to a more balanced situation. All she could do now was that…and hope that she'd survive.

* * *

There was someone calling her name. The voice was very familiar, and also annoying at the same time. She frowned and groaned, attempting to open her eyes and failing at the same time. She struggled again and managed to open her eyes just a little, allowing light to enter her vision and blinding her momentarily as she adjusted to it.

" _Quinn_ ," the voice called and it sounded anxious. " _Quinn, wake up_ ," the voice persisted and she could feel herself being shaken.

She shut her eyes again and slowly blinked them open. Her mouth opened to say something but her throat felt dry and sandy. So she closed it again and blinked the water in her eyes away, her vision finally adjusting and she could see a Latina looming over her with an anxious and frustrated look on her face. Quinn frowned and tried to remember who in the hell this lady was. God, her head hurt and she just wanted to go back to sleep, but this woman was shaking and practically yelling at her and all she wanted was to smack her upside the head.

She groaned again, hoping this woman would take the hint. Luckily for her, the Latina was smart enough and she stopped shaking and talking to her at the same time.  _Thank goodness_ , Quinn moaned inwardly and sighed. She carefully turned her head to face the woman, fully aware of the dull ache settling in her neck. She scrutinized her, trying her best to remember. Then it hit her.

_Santana Lopez_.

She frowned and wondered what the hell Santana was doing here. She should be in Washington, doing stuff at the White House or wherever she did her job. She should be monitoring the army stationed in Afghanistan. So what the hell was she doing here? Quinn noticed a jug of water sitting on the bedside table and moved her arm – slowly and painfully – to gesture at it. Santana glanced at the water and smirked.

"Get it yourself," she said. Quinn looked at her in a way that shouted I-would-if-I-could-but-I'm-kind-of-disabled-right-now-so-get-me-the-damn-water. Santana chuckled and poured a glass of water and handing it to her. Quinn took it and drank like she hadn't had a sip of water in ages, which was sort of true. "Now, can you talk?" Santana asked as soon as Quinn put the glass down. She nodded. "FYI, you're in Washington now. Okay, what the fuck happened in Afghanistan?" Santana said immediately and Quinn wanted to laugh at her straightforwardness but her throat still sort of hurt.

"I crashed my bird," Quinn croaked, clearing her throat afterwards to get her normal voice back.

Santana nodded knowingly and lifted a clipboard in her hand, scribbling on it. Quinn rolled her eyes. Stupid protocol and shit like that. Those things never did their job the way the government said they would.

"Yeah, I know that, Q. But how in the living hell did you get in a crash? You're like, the best fucking pilot I've ever known. And how could you not have a co-pilot with you? That's not following protocol."

"The protocol, Santana, says that the captain is required to be the last to jump if there are people in the aircraft. And there were people in the aircraft, okay? Soldiers, injured soldiers and my co-pilot. They all took the parachutes and there were none left. So I stayed. And you should know how freakin' stubborn I was – and still am," she added. "I do not regret staying in that plane, Santana."

"Well yeah, of course you wouldn't. Your nickname is Hardy McHardhead, so of course, you wouldn't regret it. But now, because of you, I've gotta move away from my extremely comfortable office and follow up on your shit. You're lucky you're not fucking dead and meeting Hades right now."

"I don't believe in that crap, S," Quinn said with a grimace and grunted.

"I don't care if you believe or do not believe in that crap, Q. I'm fucking pissed off at you because you went and crashed yourself and left me with a pile of paperwork that is not going to be useful in the future," Santana shot back. "And you are so very fucking lucky that you're my best friend and I fucking care about you."

Quinn grunted and looked up at the ceiling. "Stop with the f-bombs, Santana. I have enough in my head now."

Santana rolled her eyes and tapped her pencil on the clipboard. "Like I don't have shit in my head. I bet the shit you have in your head can't even compare to the shit I have in mine. Now stop fucking complaining and answer my friggin' questions." She glared at Quinn before she looked like she just realized something. "Oh and by the way, you're on paid leave for the next two years. You've also been given the option to be honorably discharged at this point. The President is very impressed with you and he thinks he's offering you a reward, when really he doesn't know that military and you are match made in hell."

"What?" Quinn exclaimed. "Why am I on leave? I'm perfectly capable of flying another plane."

"No, you are not. Apparently, you exerted too much strength and it tore your muscles and you have a shoulder injury. It might act up every now and then. And it's going to take a looong time fixing up. So yeah, Q Fab, you're going to have to sit back and relax for the next couple of years. Now stop changing the subject and answer my fucking questions. I'm sweating balls here."

"Oh yes that's nice to hear, Santana. You're giving me really pleasant images in my head. I just heard that I'm on a leave for two fucking years and there you go, cracking disgusting jokes, thus sending disgusting images into my head. So great," Quinn said, unamused.

"Yes, great. Okay, here's the next question. Why didn't you jump out of the plane after all the passengers did?"

* * *

"Kurt, you need to take off those heels and give them back to me," Rachel said in a bored tone as she applied her eyeliner.

Kurt Hummel, her publicist and also the 'captain' of her 'glamour' team, shook his head and glared at her through the mirror. "You are not wearing any heels tonight, Rachel Berry. Remember the last time you did? You almost face planted on the ground in freaking Central Park."

"That wasn't my fault!" Rachel shrieked in protest. "That stupid reporter wouldn't stop hounding and somehow he tripped me."

"I've told you a million times to hire a bodyguard but you won't listen," he said absentmindedly as he checked himself out in the mirror. She rolled her eyes and ignored his remark; instead she focused on combing her hair and sweeping her bangs to the side. "No, seriously, Rachel, you're a famous superstar. You're going to somehow be involved in something scandalous and as your publicist, I can't have that! Hire a bodyguard, will you?"

"No, Kurt. I am not hiring a bodyguard."

"Fine. If someone wields a knife at you in the future, don't regret it."

She chuckled and shook her head. "I'm not  _that_  famous you know."

"Uh, yes you are. You're going to be in a film directed by the famous Artie Abrams. Yes, you're that famous. At least, you're going to be. And don't think I don't know anything because I've been doing this for my whole life, but this film you're doing right now s very risky. The content might offend someone." Rachel frowned. "Come on, you're acting as a lesbian in the army. How much more offensive can it get?"

"What you just said is offensive. Also, I love this job. I love the script, so shut your beak and help me put that damn dress on!" she said, jumping to her feet and stalking towards her closet. "I need to get on set as fast as possible."

* * *

When she arrived on set, Artie just had to prove Kurt right by telling them they received a threatening letter specifically addressed to her. Artie had summoned them to his office and offered Rachel a chance to pull out of the project if she wanted to. Honestly, she had never seen a director as kind as the one sitting before her in his wheelchair. Rachel rejected his offer the second he stopped talking.

"No, Artie, I'm not quitting. I will continue filming. I don't care if I get threatening letters," she said and after Artie thanked her and told her that offer still stood, she and Kurt left his office and headed towards her trailer. Before Kurt could say anything, Rachel stopped him. "Stop before you say 'I told you so', cause I swear I will punch you if you do that." She threw herself onto her couch and laid face down on it.

Kurt smirked and raised his brow. He lifted his hand and checked his fingers as he muttered, "I told you so." Rachel groaned loudly and threw a plush cushion at him. With a lucky shot, she hit him in the head and he gasped. "Damn it, Rachel! My hair was perfectly combed."

"Not my problem," Rachel drawled, her voice muffled by the cushions.

He looked at himself in the mirror, taking out a comb from his pocket and re-styled his hair into what he called a 'perfectly angelic style'. Then he turned to her and asked, "So are you going to hire a bodyguard now or are you going to keep throwing yourself into dangerous situations?"

"I love the risk," Rachel quipped and Kurt rolled his eyes.

"I don't," Kurt said. "We should maybe get someone who was from the army or something."

"No!" Rachel quickly said, snapping her head towards him, truly glaring at him this time. "No one from the army, Kurt," she warned.

Kurt stared at her before his eyes brightened as it dawned on him. Then he looked at her with a sad smile. "You can't still be thinking about her, are you, Rachel?" She turned her head back into the cushion and ignored him, but he could see that she was just afraid. "Rachel, she's…she's gone. She went to the army and cut off all sorts of communications. You can't…you have to stop thinking about it."

She removed her face from the cushion and supported her weight on her elbows, looking at him with those oh-so-sad eyes she always had whenever she was thinking about  _her_. "I can't, Kurt. I wanted to but I can't."

"Try."

"I've tried for four years, Kurt!" Rachel retorted. "And I can't. God, don't you think I've tried? I went out on dates. I slept with people. Gosh, I even got back together with Finn briefly, Kurt. And I can't stop thinking about her," she repeated. "I don't even know what got into my mind when I left her that day."

He sighed. "Because she joined the army. You were pissed. You weren't happy that she did it without consulting you. You thought you couldn't take it if she died."

"Stop," Rachel whimpered, rubbing her face and sniffled. "Stop," she repeated. "I know what I was thinking, okay, Kurt? I just…I regret it so much right now. I could have spent the last four months with her and be happy with her. But I had to leave. What the hell was wrong with me?

He nodded and stood up. He approached her and leaned down, putting a hand on her shoulder and looked her in the eyes. "It's too late trying to regret anything, don't you think? Now, you should focus on your job. I don't know, maybe one day you'll have luck and she'll suddenly appear right in front of you." She was silent and he sighed again. "I'm hiring a bodyguard for you, Rachel. And it'll be better if they're from the army. I don't care if you want them or not, I'm hiring a bodyguard for you."

She clenched her jaw and just waved her hand dismissively. She composed her face into the one she always carried, where she always carried a tiny little smile on her face to let everyone know she was okay. Only people who really knew her could see right through that, she thought, and the person who really knew her was now somewhere in the world fighting people from Iraq or Germans or wherever the government always deployed soldiers to.

Her heart never stopped aching over the woman she had been so in love with – and still was – who was out there, maybe losing her life at that very moment.

* * *

Quinn sat in the plane, which was ironic to her, as she wasn't piloting the bird. She turned to her left where Sam Evans was sitting, flipping through a comic book. She rolled her eyes and shook her head. When Sam was reading a comic book or anything relatively comic-y, don't even bother trying to talk to him. She reached behind her and took out her wallet from her back pocket, flipping it open and stared at a worn out photo in it.

She had taken it out and put it back so many times now that the photo was dog-eared and yellowed at the rims. A sad smile tugged on her lips as her thumb hovered over the beautiful and wonderful brunette who had the greatest grin on her face, staring into the camera with her soul bared.

In the photo, she had her arm around the caramel-brown eyed woman and her chin was settled comfortably on the woman's shoulder, tucked into the brunette's neck and grinning into the camera as well. It was taken five months before she went into the army; six months before the brunette left her behind in their apartment because she was pissed at her.

No matter how much she wanted to hate the brunette for leaving her and pushing her to join the army, she couldn't. She loved her too much. God, how she loved this woman.

"You know, it's been what…three? Four years since you guys broke up?" Sam questioned from next to her, his comic lying face down on his lap temporarily forgotten. "I never did understand why you didn't burn that photo the minute you landed in Iraq the first time you were deployed. You told me you were gonna burn it. And I was so freaking happy that you were finally 'letting her go'," he air quoted.

"I loved her," she whispered. "And I still do. This photo is like the only remnant of her I have. And I think the only reason I didn't die these four years is because I had this photo as my lucky charm or something."

"You believe in that kind of shit?" Sam said, looking at her incredulously.

She rolled her eyes and tucked her wallet back into her pocket. She released a breath and turned to him. "I believe in her," she finally replied.

He stared at her for a moment and twisted his fishy lips to one side. "Does Santana know you're still into her?" he asked and she stared at him, her jaw dropped. That was the most irrelevant question to be asked at the moment.

Quinn sighed and looked down at her hands. "Yes, she does. God, she knows everything about me, okay? I guess she sent you back to New York to keep an eye on me and stop me from thinking shit."

"Actually, yes. ' _Keep her out of bar fights and shit like that and seriously, use a hammer if you need to when she starts to think. It's ridiculous how much nonsense she can cook up with her freaking leaded head_ '," he quoted with a crooked grin.

She laughed and shook her head. "That's so Santana," she commented and he nodded with an eyebrow raised. "So how you've been doing while I've been gone? You know, with the Secret Service and things like that. What department are you in again?"

"CIA, Quinn," he said, rolling his eyes. "I tell you this every time you come back."

"Sorry, I can't really remember cause of the army and trying to remember strategies and stuff. Did you know we have to do inventories?" she complained.

"You told me that as well," he deadpanned. "Are you sure you don't have amnesia? Cause you sure look amnesiac now." She slapped him on the arm and poked his ribs. He winced and rubbed his chest. "Anyway, it's all good. I get banged up once in awhile and I get to shoot sometimes. Found out, shooting ain't that fun," he said with a harsh exhale. "Now, I get to accompany a temporarily soldier on leave. How fun," he concluded sarcastically.

She smirked. "Any special girl I should know about?" She waited for a few seconds and only got silence. Slowly, she turned to him and he was pursing his lips, obviously pretending he didn't hear her. She grinned and smacked his chest. "There  _is_  some girl. Come on, tell me about her."

He flinched and massaged his chest again. "Seriously, girl, how much strength do you have? You're like a freaking superwoman or something." She rolled her eyes at his exaggeration and stared at him expectantly. "Fine. I just met her a few weeks ago. Her name is Mercedes Jones. She works in a coffee shop and she sings. Like, really awesome."

There was a light in his eyes as he talked about this girl and she smiled, remembering a time when she was like this as well. "She must be really special," she muttered and he nodded.

"Yeah," he murmured. "She's amazing."

She smiled and looked to the front, grabbing a random magazine from the seat back in front of her and started reading it. Though she was certainly not focused on the magazine, because she knew in the back of her mind she was going to be in the same city as her former love.

* * *

Quinn settled into the cab as Sam sat next to the driver. She looked out the window to gape at the city she had left and hadn't seen in four years. Her eyes were twinkling as they passed by and she stared at the billboards and the people and god, Central Park.

She saw someone called Blaine Anderson on one of the billboards and she grimaced when she saw the amount of gel he had in his hair. She wondered how people could have sex with him and tug on his hair. That would be…slippery. Then she froze when she saw a really large billboard hanging on one of the buildings.

It read:  
 _Armed for the Better  
starring..._

"Rachel Berry," she whispered. Memories flooded her head and she gasped. From the moment they first met to the moment Rachel walked out the door. Quinn instantly moved away from the window and stared into space, trying to regulate her breathing and shut those memories out.

"Can you…can you go faster please?" she addressed the driver.

"Miss, with this traffic, I doubt it," the driver said and kept on chewing on his doughnut.

She closed her eyes and leaned back against the headrest. "God," she whispered brokenly. "Santana, you shouldn't have sent me back here in the first place."

"That's what I told her." She snapped her eyes open to see Sam looking at her with a knowing look. "I knew it would make you nostalgic, and I told her New York really isn't the place for you to rest up. But she said it's your home. You can't hide forever."

She stared at him for the longest minute before nodding. "I guess she's kind of right. I really can't hide forever."

* * *

"Fuck you, Lopez."

Santana chuckled after she said it. "Um…I have a girlfriend for that, Fabray," Santana replied with a hint of teasing in her tone.

"This isn't funny," Quinn hissed. "I thought I told you to take care of my apartment before I left all those years ago."

"And I did. I hired a cleaner and she cleaned your apartment every week. It's good as new," Santana quipped, sitting down in her office and sipping from her coffee cup loudly.

"Don't play stupid with me. You knew what I meant when I asked you to take care of it. You said no problem and you were gonna get rid of her stuff," the blonde seethed, looking around her, eyes meeting Rachel's stuff almost everywhere. "And they are everywhere in my apartment."

"Oh, did I promise that?" Santana questioned, smirking. "Look, Fabray, I went to your apartment and I realized that almost everything belonged to her and if I really get rid of that stuff, your apartment would be as bare as that freaking hospital room you lived in two fucking days ago."

"I don't fucking care, Santana. You asked me to come back here to New York to relax and chill. I can't relax and chill when everything here reminds me of her," Quinn snapped, glaring at Sam who was trying to look like he didn't hear a word of her conversation with Santana.

Santana sighed. "Okay, fine. Get rid of them if you want. I'm not doing that for you, okay? I didn't even know what I was supposed to do with them in the first place. So either get your shit together or keep on hiding, Q," she said, losing the humor.

Quinn looked around her, her mind almost screaming in despair, as every item seemed to have Rachel Berry's face pasted on them. She could remember how they acquired each and every one of these things and she didn't want to remember.

"God, Santana," she whispered, her voice cracked and she sat down on an armchair, which was also chosen by Rachel, though Quinn paid for it. She remembered exactly how they bought this thing and what they did on it when it had been delivered there. "I can't live here."

"Yes, you can," Santana insisted strongly. She waved her hand at her assistant as he came in with a clipboard, and walked out immediately. "You are a strong woman, okay? And you're going to get through this. You've been running for four freaking years, Q. Every time you came back on days off you never went back to New York. Now, you gotta face the music and you have two years to do that."

"I had  _four_  years, Santana!" Quinn exclaimed. "Four years and I still couldn't get over it. Now you're saying two years? I'm not some freaking superwoman."

"Well, it's good to know that you're acknowledging the fact that you could have used these four years to do that. But you know what, you didn't. Instead, you chose to use these four years to run. And run you did. You did it spectacularly," Santana said, unamused. "Stop running, Lucy Quinn."

"Don't call me by that name," she gritted.

"See? That's the running. And I'd say you're doing a better job at it than I did when I got outed on freaking TV." Santana tapped her fingers on her desk. "Seriously, get your shit together. If you want to get rid of those things, sure, go ahead. Let Sam help you, even. But I ain't doing your dirty job."

"Okay, fine! Fine!" Quinn said loudly, closing her eyes and pinching the bridge nose. "Just so you know, you're a bitch."

"I can't do my job well if I'm not. Anyway, I've got news for you."

"What is it again?" Quinn grumbled.

Santana picked up a file on her desk and bit her lip. "Something I'm eighty per cent sure can help get over yourself and her," she muttered.

"What?"

"A job. While you're on leave, you can work for the Secret Service temporarily and there was a request for a bodyguard yesterday. They want someone from the army. And I thought you would fit the bill."

"Bodyguard? What? Do I look like a vest or something?"

"No, you look like someone from the army and you can get rid of your boredom with a job. Besides, you won't have to think too much about her while working. That way, you're going to gradually forget about her." Santana bit her lip harder and tried not to feel guilty. "You're going to be protecting a celebrity."

"Oh great. That's a bitch I have to deal with. Or son of a bitch. How about no, Santana?" Quinn said, standing up again and storming into the kitchen.

"Come on, Quinn. You get paid  _weekly_. You're going to protecting the celebrity until their filming ends. Oh, they got a threatening letter so maybe that's why they have to…you know, get a bodyguard."

Quinn sat at the counter, tapping her fingers on the table. "How much?"

"Twenty-thousand per week."

Quinn raised her brows and whistled. Santana hummed in agreement and waited for response. "Where do I live?"

"They have a pool house. The manager said you can live there."

The blonde considered the offer and looked around her. Her eyes settled on a glass. That freaking glass with the fucking gold star on it. She huffed and rolled her eyes.

"I'm in."

* * *

Santana got off the phone and stared at the file longer before flipping it open, laying eyes on the woman she hadn't seen since her best friend broke up with her. Her stupid grinning face on that photo was really irritating, because while she was taking this photo, Quinn was probably off somewhere in the world defending her country.

She scowled and picked up her phone, dialing a number printed on the paper. It rang a few times before a voice she knew too well answered.

"Yes, this is Kurt Hummel, Rachel Berry's fabulous publicist slash manager slash captain of her glamour team slash her best friend. What can I do for you?" he said in a bright voice. Santana could hear shouting and metals clanking in the background.

"Wow, I'm surprised you managed to snag jobs for Berry with that long ass speech, Gayface. Did you get infected by the Berry syndrome?" Santana quipped, not missing the opportunity to insult somebody.

Kurt sputtered and he cleared his throat a few times. "Wait a minute, I know that voice. Who's that again?" Kurt muttered to himself and Santana rolled her eyes as she sat there waiting impatiently for Kurt to just figure it out. "Oh my god, Satan – I mean, Santana Lopez."

"Yes, sweet Hummel, it's the female version of Satan here," she said with a fake smile on her face. "By the way, I, unfortunately, am the one in charge of your request for a bodyguard for Miss Rachel Man-hands Berry there."

"Oh," Kurt murmured and there was a little rustling before he added, "shit."

She nodded with an evil grin on her face. "Uh-huh, shit is the right word, Porcelain. You know, when I first got the file yesterday, I was really tempted to ignore it and go on with my lovely life here. You know why? Apparently we parted ways when our friends broke up and everyone picked their side. Me, Brittany, Sam, Puck and Joe picked Quinn. The rest of you losers picked Berry, when she was the one who walked out."

"Please don't tell me you really ignored my request, Santana, please," Kurt begged.

"Ah, begging," Santana drawled. "That's a new one. I've never heard Kurt Hummel beg before so that's refreshing. I kind of like it."

"Seriously, Santana. I know we haven't talked in four years, or even communicated in any way, but I really don't think this is the right time for jokes. This is serious matter."

"I know. That's why I've done my job and assigned a bodyguard for your precious fruit over there. And guess who I assigned?"

Kurt racked his brain and his eyes widened when he realized. "Oh no."

Santana laughed dryly. "Oh yes," she said loudly. "Yes, Hummel, I did."

"Wow, I'm surprised you can even call yourself Quinn's friend, Santana," Kurt remarked in a degrading tone.

"Hey, don't even try to pull that on me, okay?" Santana snapped, her humor long gone, replaced by anger. "Your girl left Quinn, not the other way around. And Quinn hasn't recovered from it since. It's been four years and I need her to get over it. So I think it's going to be easier for her to forget if they meet face to face and really talk it out."

"What in your right mind made you think that it's going to resolve just because she got assigned to bodyguard duty?" Kurt yelled. "I mean, this is just ridiculous."

"I'm not done," Santana yelled back, covering his voice. He silenced and her lips twitched in satisfaction to know she still had some power in her. "I also take my job very seriously and I know Quinn is the perfect one for it. Think about it. I don't think anybody other than Quinn is willing to risk everything to save Berry's ass, which I don't think is worth saving considering what she did four years ago."

He considered her explanation and moved his jaw back and forth a few times. "Yeah I guess you could say that."

She hummed and nodded. "And I'm not willing to get my ass kicked just because I was the unfortunate one to get my hands on this case. I can't let anything happened to Tranny there, so I picked the best. She's on leave for two years cause she got busted up in Afghanistan while piloting a plane and she's perfect for this job."

"You forgot to mention one flaw."

"No, it's perfect. They get to talk and figure their shit out. I get my ass saved. Win-win."

"Not a win-win for me. I might get my ass busted by Rachel when she finds out. Screw that. I will get my ass busted when she finds out."

"I don't really care about your hideous white ass, Hummel. I mean win-win for me and Quinn," Santana corrected him. "Now, I don't care what you have to do to tell Berry this but I got a job here that's going to pay me lots of money every month so goodbye. Oh, and please don't call me if there's nothing important."

With that she hung up. She looked at the file again and her lips curled in disgust as her eyes landed on the grinning brunette in the photo. She flipped it closed and huffed.

"I'm sorry, Q," she muttered.

* * *

Quinn slung her carry-on over her shoulder and turned to see Sam leaning against the door panel. He had his hands shoved into his pockets and he was staring at her, biting his lip worriedly. She rolled her eyes and strode towards him, wrapping her arms around him.

He returned her gesture and brushed her back. "You be careful, okay? I don't care if you got the SS training over and done within two freaking weeks; which is crazy by the way, cause I took like, five months to complete it." She snickered and he chuckled, sighing. "But you have to remember you're on leave because your body's not doing well enough. Don't push yourself too hard."

"God, you sound just like my mom, Sam. I'm going to be fine," she said, loosening her arms and leaning back. She bopped his nose and grinned when he scrunched his face. "I'm going to take care of myself. I will call you every night and give you updates. Don't worry. Take care of my apartment for me."

"Of course, of course. I have the whole place to myself. Well, for the next two weeks, anyway. Believe me, I'll trash it and you can't even imagine how," he muttered, looking around him with a grin on his face as if already planning what he was going to do to it. She punched him on the arm and he winced.

She rolled her eyes and walked out her room, grabbing her keys from bowl on the round table next to the door. "Bye, Sam." He waved at her.

She took the elevator to the parking lot in the basement and walked to her car. She whistled when she saw it sitting like brand new in the parking lot. "Thank you, Santana." She opened it and whistled again, as she hadn't been behind the wheel for a long time. "Hope I didn't get rusty," she murmured to herself and ignited the engine. "Yep, this baby is working good."

She keyed in the address she was supposed to go to in her GPS and followed the instructions. Turned out her road rage was still in her because she spent the whole time in the car yelling while driving, giving obscene gestures to drivers she wasn't pleased with. Forty-five minutes later, she reached the suburbs and was stopping in front of a huge gate. There was a guardhouse by the gate. A uniformed man came walking out, munching on a doughnut.

"Your boss will be expecting Quinn Fabray," she said and he nodded, opening gate for her.

She drove forward, thinking that the security measures of this place were mediocre. Look at how easily that guard let her in without even checking up with the people inside.

She couldn't help but gape in awe at the property. A cobbled driveway was lined with trees on both sides, while expanse of fields stretched out beyond them. Ten minutes later, the driveway led to a roundabout with a…music note fountain in the middle.

Wait, what?

The mansion was sitting right in front of her and it was huge. Two marble pillars were supporting the roof and there were two big oak doors at the front of the house with…music notes knockers.

Seriously, was this celebrity obsessed with music notes?

There was a man standing at the top of the steps, and he seemed to be nervous. She squinted to get a better view of him and as she drove nearer, her eyes grew wider. Oh no this couldn't be happening. If…if he's the manager, that only meant one thing.

The sudden and strong urge to flee attacked her, but her rational side was telling her to be professional and not let her heart rule this one. She gasped and slowed her car as the man walked down the steps slowly, biting his lips. She got out and stared at him from over the hood of the car.

"Good to see you again, Quinn," he said cautiously.

Before she could say anything, the oak doors opened and a short woman came out, walking with quick steps. She could remember the sound of those footsteps anywhere. She squeezed her eyes shut, taking in deep breaths. She swore she was going to kill Santana for this.

"Quinn," the woman muttered, sounding surprised.

She opened her eyes and finally looked at the woman. She hadn't seen her in four years. The squeezing of her heart came back but she ignored it.

"Rachel."


	2. salt to the wound

Kurt cursed Santana quietly as he followed Rachel storming around the house before finally making it into her bedroom. He knew this would happen. Fuck Santana for thinking that this would be okay and a 'win-win'. If she called this situation a win-win she should just kill herself. He just managed to get himself into the room before Rachel slammed the door closed.

She swung around and stood akimbo, glaring at him. He knew that glare meant death. He gulped and stared back at her. Her silence was beginning to increase his nervousness and he hated feeling nervous so he cleared his throat and rocked on his heels, waiting for her to say something.

Her breathing was audible as she stalked towards her bathroom and he could hear the tap opening and water flowing out. A few minutes later she came out with a towel drying her face.

"I could fire you right this second," she began quietly. "I could slap you. Trust me; I'm capable of doing all sorts of things to you right now." Her voice shook as she spoke and he knew that she was really angry. She clenched her jaw and looked out the window. "I don't even know what I'm supposed to say right now," she finally said.

He rubbed the back of his neck and swallowed. He himself didn't even know what he was supposed to say so he stayed quiet. He hoped someone would know enough to show Quinn to the pool house because he sure had his hands full right now.

"How long have you kept this from me?" He started when Rachel spoke. She turned around to face him. The anger in her eyes had dissipated, replaced by disappointment and despair. "How long, Kurt?"

He struggled between telling her the truth and lying to her. He decided to go with the former. "Two weeks," he said quietly, not able to look her in the eyes.

He heard her sigh. "I can't believe you right now," she whispered harshly and sat down on her bed. "Two weeks, Kurt. You know how I feel about people hiding things from me, Kurt. You knew and yet you hid such an important detail from me for two freaking weeks. God know what other things you've hidden from me," she muttered and buried her face in her hands.

"I've hidden nothing else, Rach," Kurt exclaimed. "I just…you're not safe, Rachel. You just received a second threatening letter last week. Who knows what'll happen in the future? I knew if I told you that she was going to be the bodyguard, you were going to throw a fit and for a new one. We don't have time for that."

"You're hiding something else," Rachel quipped, staring at him with an eyebrow raised.

He looked up at the ceiling and cursed Rachel's abilities to read him like a stupid mind reader. "Okay, fine. Santana is involved as well." Rachel frowned at him. "You do remember that she works for the government, right?"

Her jaw dropped and she shook her head slowly. "Please don't tell me…"

"Yes, she's the one who assigned Quinn to be your bodyguard," Kurt informed regretfully.

"How can she do this?" she exclaimed. "Is she trying to shove it into my face and tell me that she has moved on while I haven't? Is she taunting me? I know she blames me for walking out. So did Noah, Sam and the others; but why does she have to do this?"

Kurt shrugged and sighed. "I don't know. She just wanted to do her job and she said Quinn fits the bill."

"She doesn't understand how it feels to not trust your partner anymore. Especially when she made such a life changing decision without consulting me first," Rachel murmured, running her hands through her hair and pacing around the room. "I want her out. I don't want her here. I want another bodyguard."

"No, Rachel. Quinn can help you. She's here to ensure your safety and nothing else. You two can choose not to talk to each other. You can just pay her twenty thousand per week and let her make sure you're safe. At least until filming ends."

" _Stop_  saying her name, Kurt!" Rachel finally yelled, stopping him mid-sentence. "I have enough in my head and I don't want to hear her name right now."

"Okay," he squeaked.

She breathed harshly and stared at him in despair. She swallowed and finally let her defense down. Tears began flowing out of her eyes and she sat back down on her bed. "God, Kurt," she choked.

Kurt released a shuddering breath before moving forward and taking Rachel in his arms. "I'm sorry, Rachel. But it's for your own good," he whispered, stroking her hair as she cried into his chest. "Everything's going to be fine."

* * *

"I. Am. Going. To. Kill. You," she gritted through her clenched jaw into the speaker of her cell phone. She was following a girl she assumed worked for Rachel down to the pool house. She didn't even care that the girl flinched at her words. "You set me up," she snapped.

"I didn't set you up," Santana insisted. "I was doing my freaking job, which includes assigning the best bodyguards to bitches."

Quinn worked her teeth and she took a deep breath. "Yep, you were doing your freaking job. Don't fucking lie to me, Santana. There are people better than I am. I'm not the best you have. So why assign me to her? Rachel Berry, the woman who walked out on me and the woman I let down because I betrayed her trust. What, is this your way of helping me get over her? It ain't fucking helping."

"I assigned you to Rachel freaking Berry because you are indeed the best. For her. I'll admit I was a little selfish –" Quinn scoffed "– because I know only you would risk your life and do anything to have her safe and sound. I don't want my ass kicked if things go wrong and I want you to get over her."

"This isn't helping, Santana!"

"Yes it is! Or at least it will! You need to sort your shit out. Talk to her! Ask her why she walked out! Just figure it the fuck out! I'm tired of watching you fake smiling and fake laughing all the time. I'm tired of watching you pretending to be happy when I know you still keep that fucking photo in your wallet."

Quinn nodded stiffly to the girl once they reached the pool house and she mouthed 'thank you' at her before heading inside. She didn't bother to look around her and just tossed her carry-on on the couch and walked out to the pool.

"You just threw me out here assuming I wouldn't quit and run," she bit out. "What kind of person are you?"

"A selfish one," Santana replied truthfully. "But also one who cares about you." Quinn scoffed. "Look, RuPaul –"

"Don't call her that."

"Shut up," Santana snapped. "Berry may be in danger right now. We don't even know. She got another threatening letter last week. Are you going to tell me you won't put yourself back into that phase where you shut yourself away from us and not talk to us if she ever got harmed?"

"Stop pretending you know me, Santana," Quinn said quietly, closing her eyes, knowing full well that Santana  _did_  know her. She knew her very well.

"Oh but I do. I know you, Q., and I'm offering you a chance to redeem yourself right now. Because even if Berry's the one who walked out, you were the one who betrayed her trust first." Santana sighed then said quietly, "If you still love her, Q Fab, do everything you can to protect her. Regain her trust and maybe – God knows how much I don't want that to happen – you can rebuild a relationship with her."

Quinn sat down at the edge of the pool and watched the water ripple as she considered Santana's words. She did love Rachel. So much that it physically hurt. And Santana was right – again – when she assumed that Quinn would definitely not be okay if anything happened to Rachel. But most importantly, she  _loved_  Rachel. She scoffed and looked up at the sky with a humorless grin.

"Fuck you, Lopez," she croaked. This time, the words lacked malice. This was her way of telling Santana that she was right."

Santana chuckled. "You wish."

"Do you trust her?"

Rachel looked up from her phone and at Kurt. "What?"

"Do you trust her enough to let her be your protector?" he elaborated. "You need to trust a bodyguard immensely and she's going to be keeping you from harm in any way. So before we truly hire her, I need to know if you trust her enough to put your life in her hands."

She contemplated his words and bit her bottom lip. She wanted to say no so badly. Truth be told, she had been trusting Quinn with all her heart ever since they went on their first date; despite how Quinn breached her trust by enlisting without asking her or even telling her prior. She smiled sadly, thinking that she was so pathetic.

"I do," she whispered. She let out a dry chuckle and buried her face into her hands, her phone long forgotten. "I trust her. There's not even a doubt about it. God I'm so pathetic," she breathed.

Kurt smiled and raised his brows, nodding silently in agreement. "You are kind of pathetic," he commented. She lifted her head from her hands and shot him a dirty look. He shrugged. "You trust a woman, who betrayed your trust four years ago, with your life. I think that explains enough."

Rachel's lips twitched. "Do you ever feel like you can immediately see your future flashing in front of you with a person you just met?" Rachel asked. He raised his brow at her insight. "Like…you know that person could be the One for you." She narrowed her eyes at her own words. "Does that make sense?"

"Actually, yes," he said with a smile. "Remember a certain bow tie fanatic?"

She laughed and nodded. "Yes, I do indeed. He's a keeper."

"Oh I know," he replied with a grin. "Why the sudden insight, darling?"

She stared into the space, engulfed in silence for the next few minutes before she answered, "Because that was how I felt when I first met Quinn. I remember when I ran into her outside the Starbucks nearby NYADA. I remember thinking nothing but 'Wow' when I saw her face." She blinked twice and laughed. "I remember the sandals she was wearing cause Santana stole her sneakers, which I still think is ridiculous. I remember thinking I'd never get a chance with her. But what I remember the most was how her eyes twinkled and just…drew me in."

"That was love at first sight, wasn't it?" Kurt queried.

She looked at him and nodded with a smile. "Yeah, I think it was," she whispered. "That's why I trust her. Maybe love isn't enough sometimes. But…I think it's enough reason for me to trust her."

"Let's just hope she won't betray your trust again, eh?" He stared at her skeptically.

She nodded. "Let's just hope she won't."

Quinn decided that she wouldn't be going to the mansion for dinner that night. She needed time to clear her head. So when Kurt came and invited her to the mansion – with something that resembled distaste in his eyes – she refused and gave him a look so he would know to leave her alone. When he walked away, she smiled smugly, glad to know that she still had some HBIC in her.

Her smile was wiped off the moment she saw Rachel standing on the threshold, waiting for Kurt. She was staring at her; as if she could stare right into Quinn's soul. Quinn shuddered and returned the stare, refusing to look away. Her eyes roved over Rachel and the edge of her lips curved upwards in a reluctant smile as she realized how much Rachel had grown.

Her curves were more pronounced now and Quinn licked her lips, remembering the days when  _her_ hands used to touch the skin underneath the loose sweater and short pants. Quinn released a shuddering breath and her eyes moved upwards, meeting Rachel's eyes.

What she saw took her breath away. She didn't realize how freaking much she'd missed the brunette until their eyes met and it was like the first time they met. The familiarity. The electric tension. It was zapping all over her again just like it had four years ago.

"Oh my god," she whispered brokenly, tears welling up in her eyes.

Rachel's eyes were tearful as well and she smiled sadly at Quinn. "I missed you," she mouthed before heading into the mansion with Kurt.

Quinn collapsed onto the couch and buried her head into her hands, breathing harshly. She gave up trying to rein in her tears and just let it all out. She let her frustration, disappointment and desperation all out. She sobbed into her hands, tasting the salt of her own tears and choked on her own laugh.

How ironic. Like adding salt to her wounds.

* * *

She woke up with a pounding headache and she jumped upright when she found that she wasn't in her room in New York City. Her days in the army had trained her to be extra alert and to not take any chances. Habits were hard to break. Her anxiety ebbed away when she remembered that she was now working for Rachel.

She heaved a sigh and slid out of bed, heading to the kitchen to make herself some decent coffee and just get the day rolling. Quinn didn't bother putting sugar and just drank the coffee straight away. Scalding hot and bitter, just like how her days were going to be now.

Quinn finally took the time to examine the pool house and found that in spite of it being vacant for God knows how long, it was clean and well furnished. There was a flat screen television in the living room, with a glass coffee table. One cream-colored armchair sat sideways, facing the television while three coffee-colored couches sat around the coffee table.

She went back into the bedroom and opened the other door, which led to a bathroom. Her eyes widened at the big round tub in the middle of the bathroom and the walk-in shower taking up a good portion of the room. She walked out quickly and made her way to the other side of the living room. Her hand twisted the knob and there was a mini gym there. Equipment was set up and all ready to use and she couldn't help but whistle.

Looks like Rachel managed to make a lot of money with her career, Quinn thought and smiled. Good for her.

When she was finished with the coffee, she washed the cup in the sink and put it back to its rightful place before heading into the bathroom. She decided to use the walk-in shower instead of the tub. She didn't really want to break anything. A chuckle escaped her lips when she saw the music notes on the tiled wall.

 _Typical_ , she thought and turned on the heater, proceeding to take her much-needed shower.

* * *

Rachel woke up at six in the morning, as per usual. Her routine had not really changed. She went downstairs to the gym for her morning workout, which took an hour. Then she took a hot bath in her comfortable bathtub while reading Nicholas Sparks. At half past seven, she got out of the tub and dressed. She went back downstairs to see her house bustling with people and sighed, heading to the kitchen. Her caramel latte was ready on the counter with her daily oatmeal. She began to eat her breakfast while catching up with the newspaper.

All these she did without thinking about Quinn. Well, as hard as she tried to not think about her; until said woman walked in the back door, pausing as she saw Rachel. Rachel's spoon was left in the bowl as their eyes locked on each other. Rachel gulped and grabbed her coffee and took a drink. Quinn stood there, stiff and not knowing what to do until Kurt came in.

"Good morning," he greeted, effectively breaking the awkwardness. "So, Quinn, it's nice to have you here. I didn't exactly…give you a very warm welcome yesterday. So welcome, Quinn!"

She shook herself mentally and smiled at him. "Yeah, thanks," she muttered and glanced at Rachel again before looking back at Kurt. "Do you have a security team or something like that?"

"As a matter of fact, we do," Rachel decided to answer, looking at Quinn. Quinn's eyes snapped to Rachel and saw nothing but challenge and…love.

Quinn shook herself mentally again. She must've interpreted the emotion behind Rachel's eyes wrong and darted her gaze away.

"Tell them they're not doing a very good job," she remarked. "Also, I'd like to meet all of them later. Just reach me on my cell when they're here." Then she walked out to the foyer to continue her patrol and check on the security measures they had taken so far. From what she had seen, they were not very up to par.

"I need to remind you that I'm your employer, Quinn." Quinn stopped at Rachel's strong tone. "At least show me some respect."

She couldn't help but smile. After four years, Rachel's freaking pride was still big as ever. She turned around, crossing her arms over her chest, not wiping that smile away and raised an eyebrow at the brunette.

"You employed me to be your bodyguard," Quinn began. "I'm just doing my job here. Your security team is not doing a good job  _securing_  you. Really, I can list out all of the things that I find completely at fault but I don't think you'd want to know."

"That doesn't explain your disrespect towards me,  _Quinn_ ," Rachel emphasized.

She clinched her jaw and shifted her weight to one foot. "Miss Berry, all due  _respect_ , the security measures you've taken are by far the worst I've ever seen. God knows how many more mistakes I'll find later. One second wasted talking to you is one second exposing you to more danger. If your pride is more important than your safety right now, I guess you should just fire me and your security team and just let yourself be killed sooner or later."

Their eyes locked in silent battle. Admiration and defiance surged throughout their senses but they didn't let any show in their eyes. They couldn't. Their stubbornness wouldn't allow them to. Kurt could practically feel electricity in the air and diffused the tension quickly as he jumped between them, breaking their eye contact.

"Okay!" he squealed breathlessly and looked between them nervously. "Rachel, I have to talk to you about your show tonight and Quinn, please go on with your inspection of the house. I will surely call you as soon as the security team is here, which shouldn't be long."

Quinn nodded curtly and walked away.

Rachel huffed and crossed her arms over her chest, glaring at Kurt. "Why did you do that?"

"What happened to yesterday? You practically yelled at her telling you missed her and now both of you are like dinosaurs fighting for a piece of meat," Kurt said, staring at her with wide eyes. "And don't tell me it's all about your self dignity, Rachel. That was nothing about dignity."

"You're wrong, Kurt. I pay her every freaking week so I have a right to ask for respect." Rachel abandoned her breakfast and stormed up the stairs. "Also, Kurt, I  _do not_ have a show tonight. I have a movie to film."

"Yeah, yeah, sure, I just said that to break both of you apart. And no, you have a day off today," Kurt informed, following her upstairs.

She scoffed and stalked into her study, sitting behind the desk and turning on her computer. "I really can't believe you sometimes."

"I think I should be the one saying that."

"No you don't," she snapped, glaring at him. "Now go away. I have Tetris to defeat."

He rolled his eyes and walked out, muttering, "What is it with you and that game?"

* * *

She had compiled and written every loophole she had found in the mansion and handed the list to the head of the security team, Azimio Adams. The black guy took it – more like snatched it – from her and read it, scowling hideously as he reached the end of the list. He glared at her and smacked it on the table, startling everyone but her.

"Are you kidding me?" he bellowed, spitting all over her face.

She calmly reached for her handkerchief in her back pocket and wiped her face clean. Then she calmly met his eyes and enunciated, "No."

He crumpled the paper and waved it in front of her. "This is literally everything in the house!" he bellowed again. She nodded. "Are you trying to undermine me, Fabray?"

"No," she said again. "This house has loopholes  _everywhere_ , Adams. I don't have time to undermine you. Your team is not doing a good job and I'm just pointing it out." She looked around her in the kitchen, addressing everyone. "I get paid twenty thousand every week so I'm not going to sweet talk my way into your pathetic team and get you to like me. Either you fix this or I'll make sure by the end of the week you and your team will be replaced entirely by  _my_  people."

Azimio narrowed his eyes at her and glared at the now creased paper again, then back at her. She didn't cower away when his fierce eyes met hers. He exhaled harshly, his stench permeating her nose.

"I'll submit the list to Hummel and have these all done and fixed as fast as we can," he finally said.

She nodded and let a tiny smile tugged on her lips. Her eyes wandered the room and landed on a brunette who had a hint of respect in his eyes. She looked away and back to the black guy in front of her.

"Your team sucks," she repeated. His anger seemed to have risen again and she chuckled. "Be angry all you want but I'm going to repeat this again. Your. Team.  _Sucks_ ," she enunciated each word. "You guys come to work without a schedule and that is unacceptable. The guards you assign to the guardhouse can't even  _guard_." She relayed what happened yesterday to Azimio and he seemed to have a little regret afterwards. "Also, there's no one on patrol at all. From today onwards, I want at least two people on patrol. One in the house and one outside. No exceptions."

"Just because you came out from the army doesn't mean you get a say in everything, Fabray," Azimio growled dangerously. "Also, I heard you were discharged temporarily because you were injured. Apparently you weren't doing a very good job either."

She stiffened and was prepared to retort before a familiar voice broke in. "Quinn gets a say in every one of my security issues from now on, Azimio." Their heads snapped to Rachel who was standing at the doorway glowering at Azimio. "She's the captain of the team now."

"Miss Berry –"

"Azimio," Rachel snapped and raised her brow at him. He closed his mouth and huffed. "Do you think I would need to hire a special bodyguard from the army if you were doing a good job?" she questioned and he looked guilty. "Now go and do everything that needs to be done."

The team all walked out of the kitchen and Azimio was  _shouting_ orders at his teammates angrily, leaving Quinn and Rachel alone in the kitchen. Quinn looked down at her feet, her strong façade fading away and when she realized it, she quickly replaced her fragile expression with a poker face, looking up at Rachel. She nodded at Rachel with gratitude and was prepared to walk out before the brunette stopped her.

Quinn paused in her steps and turned to face Rachel who was looking at her pleadingly. She gulped and dared herself to meet Rachel's eyes, but she couldn't. All the years in the field firing her rifle still didn't give her the courage to face the woman she had disappointed four years ago.

A layer of silence engulfed them and they stood there, facing each other yet not really  _facing_  each other.

"Thank you for doing this," Rachel said softly.

Quinn looked up in surprise and was even more surprised when she saw gratitude and love – again – in Rachel's eyes. She nodded before walking out the back door to the pool house.

* * *

Quinn stomped into the pool house, holding the tears in and slammed the door behind her before throwing herself onto the couch. She covered her forehead with her forearm and took a shuddering breath and held it. When she finally had to release it, she was pretty sure that the feeling of not breathing couldn't even compare to what she felt every time she saw Rachel and she just had to do these things to her.

Her phone buzzed in her pocket and she quickly dug it out, not even bothering to glance at the caller ID and answered it. "What?"

"Wow, someone who didn't keep her promise is in a really bad mood," Sam's voice floated into her ear and she opened her eyes to stare at the ceiling. "You did promise you'd call me every day, Quinn. And it's five in the evening now and you still haven't."

"That meant I have seven more hours until tomorrow. Aren't you just needy, Evans?" Quinn teased and smiled softly. "I hope you haven't destroyed my apartment."

Sam chuckled. "Yes, I am a needy baby who needs his blonde mommy to feed him," he mimicked a baby's voice and she laughed. "And no, I haven't destroyed your apartment. Not yet, anyway," he added.

"Don't you dare do anything to my apartment, Sam Evans," she warned.

She could practically hear him shrug on the other end of the line. "Yeah I'll try," he teased. "Anyway, how's the job going? Is it fun? Who's the celebrity? Is it a he or she? If it's a she is she hot?" he fired his questions without stopping.

Reminded of her current job, her humor dissipated, replaced by agony and she just  _wanted_  to leave the house right this second. But she knew she couldn't. She slapped herself mentally for being so freaking weak. She scolded herself for still being so fucking in love with the boss of the mansion.

"Quinn?" Sam's voice snapped her back to reality and she silently thanked him for that. "Is everything okay?"

She nodded even though she knew he couldn't see her right now. "Yeah, everything's fine." She stared into the space for a couple of seconds before adding, "I guess."

"What do you mean, 'you guess'?" Sam asked, alarmed.

"To answer your questions," she said loudly, "the job sucks because my employer has the worst security system I have ever seen in my life. And that's saying something after my short trip to Iran last year. I had to give the captain of the security team a list of things to fix and he kept bitching because he's jealous."

"Quinn –" Sam said, trying to steer them back to his intended discussion but she cut him off again.

"So it's not fun," she said loudly, coveting his voice. "The celebrity is a she," she informed Sam and took a deep breath, chuckling dryly at herself for what she was about to say. "And she's definitely hot." Her voice cracked and it was like a light bulb went off in his head.

"Oh shit she didn't," he muttered.

"Oh yes Lopez did," Quinn said with a humorless laugh. "She fucking did," she whispered.

Sam was taking deep breaths, as if calming himself and she knew he was on the verge of calling Santana and giving her a piece of his mind, which she was sure he was going to do after they hung up.

"Santana didn't really give me a heads up about the person I was going to be guarding until I came here and saw Hummel at the front door. And then she came up and it felt like the world was finally crashing down on me," Quinn rambled. "Then she had to fucking say she missed me. And then this morning she just had to uphold her fucking dignity and ask for my fucking respect. Hours later she just had to stand up for me with Azimio Adams and thanked me. But you know what, Sam? After everything, I still…I still love her like fuck and she was like a freaking goddess standing there in front of me."

"Okay, Quinn, you need to calm down," he soothed. She choked on her own air and coughed. "Why don't you just leave and let another person take the job?"

Quinn stared up at the ceiling as if she could find the answer there. But inside, she knew she wouldn't have to find it. She already knew the answer. "She's Rachel Berry." Her eyes wandered from the chandelier to the patterns on the ceiling and released a sigh. "She's Rachel Berry," she repeated.

Sam echoed her sigh. "You're doing a really bang up job of helping yourself there, Quinn," he muttered.

She released a dry laugh. "I know right?"

"So you plan to just…stand there and watch over her like a German shepherd?" he asked.

"I think I'm more like a mix between a Labrador and Rottweiler," she said with a grin. "You know, I still want to follow her around and let her pet me like a goddamn Labrador. On the other hand, I'm willing to kill just to protect her."

He laughed loudly and hummed in agreement. "Yeah, that sounds about right." A moment of silence passed between them before he asked, "So I'm guessing there's no chance for me to ask you out for a drink since you're so busy protecting her."

"Why? You want to ask me out on a date?" she joked.

"I tried that five years ago. You shot me down and told me you don't play on my team," deadpanned Sam. "I just wanted to hang out with you. You know, you came back for like one month and then you were off protecting your ex-girlfriend – whom you haven't gotten over. I missed you. We all did."

She smiled and silently thanked her friends for being there with her no matter how. "I missed you guys too. Tell you what? When Santana and Brittany come to New York next week, you can come here and we'll have fun in this awesome pool house. I'm pretty sure Kurt won't disagree."

"Will she agree?" he queried quietly.

She stayed silent for a moment as her mind tried to find the right words. Actually, she didn't even know what she was supposed to say. Then she sighed. "I'll ask her about it tomorrow," she answered.

"You sound tired, Quinn."

"Yeah well I've been thinking  _a lot_  since I first laid eyes on her yesterday, so yes, I  _am_  tired," she explained and ran her hand over her face. "I can't sleep though. My case of insomnia ain't going away."

"I'll leave you to your rest. Just call me tomorrow, okay?" Sam reminded, his voice filled with concern.

"I will, Sam. Thanks."

"What for?"

She hummed and smiled. "Just thanks for being there for me all this time."

He chuckled. "Anytime, Q Fab. Rest well. Good night."

"Good night."

She hung up and threw her phone on the coffee table before leaning back again, laying her forearm over her forehead and sighed in exhaustion. She'd been through a lot in these couple of days. And Sam was right. She was just  _exhausted_  to the point that she could be out on the street and she could still fall asleep. If it wasn't for this damn insomnia, she swore she'd be asleep right now.

Or if Rachel was in her arms. An image of Rachel flashed through her mind and she grunted, squeezing her eyes shut.

"You'll be the death of me, Rachel Berry."


	3. more to it

Kurt cursed Santana quietly as he followed Rachel storming around the house before finally making it into her bedroom. He knew this would happen. Fuck Santana for thinking that this would be okay and a 'win-win'. If she called this situation a win-win she should just kill herself. He just managed to get himself into the room before Rachel slammed the door closed.

She swung around and stood akimbo, glaring at him. He knew that glare meant death. He gulped and stared back at her. Her silence was beginning to increase his nervousness and he hated feeling nervous so he cleared his throat and rocked on his heels, waiting for her to say something.

Her breathing was audible as she stalked towards her bathroom and he could hear the tap opening and water flowing out. A few minutes later she came out with a towel drying her face.

"I could fire you right this second," she began quietly. "I could slap you. Trust me; I'm capable of doing all sorts of things to you right now." Her voice shook as she spoke and he knew that she was really angry. She clenched her jaw and looked out the window. "I don't even know what I'm supposed to say right now," she finally said.

He rubbed the back of his neck and swallowed. He himself didn't even know what he was supposed to say so he stayed quiet. He hoped someone would know enough to show Quinn to the pool house because he sure had his hands full right now.

"How long have you kept this from me?" He started when Rachel spoke. She turned around to face him. The anger in her eyes had dissipated, replaced by disappointment and despair. "How long, Kurt?"

He struggled between telling her the truth and lying to her. He decided to go with the former. "Two weeks," he said quietly, not able to look her in the eyes.

He heard her sigh. "I can't believe you right now," she whispered harshly and sat down on her bed. "Two weeks, Kurt. You know how I feel about people hiding things from me, Kurt. You knew and yet you hid such an important detail from me for two freaking weeks. God know what other things you've hidden from me," she muttered and buried her face in her hands.

"I've hidden nothing else, Rach," Kurt exclaimed. "I just…you're not safe, Rachel. You just received a second threatening letter last week. Who knows what'll happen in the future? I knew if I told you that she was going to be the bodyguard, you were going to throw a fit and for a new one. We don't have time for that."

"You're hiding something else," Rachel quipped, staring at him with an eyebrow raised.

He looked up at the ceiling and cursed Rachel's abilities to read him like a stupid mind reader. "Okay, fine. Santana is involved as well." Rachel frowned at him. "You do remember that she works for the government, right?"

Her jaw dropped and she shook her head slowly. "Please don't tell me…"

"Yes, she's the one who assigned Quinn to be your bodyguard," Kurt informed regretfully.

"How can she do this?" she exclaimed. "Is she trying to shove it into my face and tell me that she has moved on while I haven't? Is she taunting me? I know she blames me for walking out. So did Noah, Sam and the others; but why does she have to do this?"

Kurt shrugged and sighed. "I don't know. She just wanted to do her job and she said Quinn fits the bill."

"She doesn't understand how it feels to not trust your partner anymore. Especially when she made such a life changing decision without consulting me first," Rachel murmured, running her hands through her hair and pacing around the room. "I want her out. I don't want her here. I want another bodyguard."

"No, Rachel. Quinn can help you. She's here to ensure your safety and nothing else. You two can choose not to talk to each other. You can just pay her twenty thousand per week and let her make sure you're safe. At least until filming ends."

" _Stop_  saying her name, Kurt!" Rachel finally yelled, stopping him mid-sentence. "I have enough in my head and I don't want to hear her name right now."

"Okay," he squeaked.

She breathed harshly and stared at him in despair. She swallowed and finally let her defense down. Tears began flowing out of her eyes and she sat back down on her bed. "God, Kurt," she choked.

Kurt released a shuddering breath before moving forward and taking Rachel in his arms. "I'm sorry, Rachel. But it's for your own good," he whispered, stroking her hair as she cried into his chest. "Everything's going to be fine."

* * *

"I. Am. Going. To. Kill. You," she gritted through her clenched jaw into the speaker of her cell phone. She was following a girl she assumed worked for Rachel down to the pool house. She didn't even care that the girl flinched at her words. "You set me up," she snapped.

"I didn't set you up," Santana insisted. "I was doing my freaking job, which includes assigning the best bodyguards to bitches."

Quinn worked her teeth and she took a deep breath. "Yep, you were doing your freaking job. Don't fucking lie to me, Santana. There are people better than I am. I'm not the best you have. So why assign me to her? Rachel Berry, the woman who walked out on me and the woman I let down because I betrayed her trust. What, is this your way of helping me get over her? It ain't fucking helping."

"I assigned you to Rachel freaking Berry because you are indeed the best. For her. I'll admit I was a little selfish –" Quinn scoffed "– because I know only you would risk your life and do anything to have her safe and sound. I don't want my ass kicked if things go wrong and I want you to get over her."

"This isn't helping, Santana!"

"Yes it is! Or at least it will! You need to sort your shit out. Talk to her! Ask her why she walked out! Just figure it the fuck out! I'm tired of watching you fake smiling and fake laughing all the time. I'm tired of watching you pretending to be happy when I know you still keep that fucking photo in your wallet."

Quinn nodded stiffly to the girl once they reached the pool house and she mouthed 'thank you' at her before heading inside. She didn't bother to look around her and just tossed her carry-on on the couch and walked out to the pool.

"You just threw me out here assuming I wouldn't quit and run," she bit out. "What kind of person are you?"

"A selfish one," Santana replied truthfully. "But also one who cares about you." Quinn scoffed. "Look, RuPaul –"

"Don't call her that."

"Shut up," Santana snapped. "Berry may be in danger right now. We don't even know. She got another threatening letter last week. Are you going to tell me you won't put yourself back into that phase where you shut yourself away from us and not talk to us if she ever got harmed?"

"Stop pretending you know me, Santana," Quinn said quietly, closing her eyes, knowing full well that Santana  _did_  know her. She knew her very well.

"Oh but I do. I know you, Q., and I'm offering you a chance to redeem yourself right now. Because even if Berry's the one who walked out, you were the one who betrayed her trust first." Santana sighed then said quietly, "If you still love her, Q Fab, do everything you can to protect her. Regain her trust and maybe – God knows how much I don't want that to happen – you can rebuild a relationship with her."

Quinn sat down at the edge of the pool and watched the water ripple as she considered Santana's words. She did love Rachel. So much that it physically hurt. And Santana was right – again – when she assumed that Quinn would definitely not be okay if anything happened to Rachel. But most importantly, she  _loved_  Rachel. She scoffed and looked up at the sky with a humorless grin.

"Fuck you, Lopez," she croaked. This time, the words lacked malice. This was her way of telling Santana that she was right."

Santana chuckled. "You wish."

"Do you trust her?"

Rachel looked up from her phone and at Kurt. "What?"

"Do you trust her enough to let her be your protector?" he elaborated. "You need to trust a bodyguard immensely and she's going to be keeping you from harm in any way. So before we truly hire her, I need to know if you trust her enough to put your life in her hands."

She contemplated his words and bit her bottom lip. She wanted to say no so badly. Truth be told, she had been trusting Quinn with all her heart ever since they went on their first date; despite how Quinn breached her trust by enlisting without asking her or even telling her prior. She smiled sadly, thinking that she was so pathetic.

"I do," she whispered. She let out a dry chuckle and buried her face into her hands, her phone long forgotten. "I trust her. There's not even a doubt about it. God I'm so pathetic," she breathed.

Kurt smiled and raised his brows, nodding silently in agreement. "You are kind of pathetic," he commented. She lifted her head from her hands and shot him a dirty look. He shrugged. "You trust a woman, who betrayed your trust four years ago, with your life. I think that explains enough."

Rachel's lips twitched. "Do you ever feel like you can immediately see your future flashing in front of you with a person you just met?" Rachel asked. He raised his brow at her insight. "Like…you know that person could be the One for you." She narrowed her eyes at her own words. "Does that make sense?"

"Actually, yes," he said with a smile. "Remember a certain bow tie fanatic?"

She laughed and nodded. "Yes, I do indeed. He's a keeper."

"Oh I know," he replied with a grin. "Why the sudden insight, darling?"

She stared into the space, engulfed in silence for the next few minutes before she answered, "Because that was how I felt when I first met Quinn. I remember when I ran into her outside the Starbucks nearby NYADA. I remember thinking nothing but 'Wow' when I saw her face." She blinked twice and laughed. "I remember the sandals she was wearing cause Santana stole her sneakers, which I still think is ridiculous. I remember thinking I'd never get a chance with her. But what I remember the most was how her eyes twinkled and just…drew me in."

"That was love at first sight, wasn't it?" Kurt queried.

She looked at him and nodded with a smile. "Yeah, I think it was," she whispered. "That's why I trust her. Maybe love isn't enough sometimes. But…I think it's enough reason for me to trust her."

"Let's just hope she won't betray your trust again, eh?" He stared at her skeptically.

She nodded. "Let's just hope she won't."

Quinn decided that she wouldn't be going to the mansion for dinner that night. She needed time to clear her head. So when Kurt came and invited her to the mansion – with something that resembled distaste in his eyes – she refused and gave him a look so he would know to leave her alone. When he walked away, she smiled smugly, glad to know that she still had some HBIC in her.

Her smile was wiped off the moment she saw Rachel standing on the threshold, waiting for Kurt. She was staring at her; as if she could stare right into Quinn's soul. Quinn shuddered and returned the stare, refusing to look away. Her eyes roved over Rachel and the edge of her lips curved upwards in a reluctant smile as she realized how much Rachel had grown.

Her curves were more pronounced now and Quinn licked her lips, remembering the days when  _her_ hands used to touch the skin underneath the loose sweater and short pants. Quinn released a shuddering breath and her eyes moved upwards, meeting Rachel's eyes.

What she saw took her breath away. She didn't realize how freaking much she'd missed the brunette until their eyes met and it was like the first time they met. The familiarity. The electric tension. It was zapping all over her again just like it had four years ago.

"Oh my god," she whispered brokenly, tears welling up in her eyes.

Rachel's eyes were tearful as well and she smiled sadly at Quinn. "I missed you," she mouthed before heading into the mansion with Kurt.

Quinn collapsed onto the couch and buried her head into her hands, breathing harshly. She gave up trying to rein in her tears and just let it all out. She let her frustration, disappointment and desperation all out. She sobbed into her hands, tasting the salt of her own tears and choked on her own laugh.

How ironic. Like adding salt to her wounds.

* * *

She woke up with a pounding headache and she jumped upright when she found that she wasn't in her room in New York City. Her days in the army had trained her to be extra alert and to not take any chances. Habits were hard to break. Her anxiety ebbed away when she remembered that she was now working for Rachel.

She heaved a sigh and slid out of bed, heading to the kitchen to make herself some decent coffee and just get the day rolling. Quinn didn't bother putting sugar and just drank the coffee straight away. Scalding hot and bitter, just like how her days were going to be now.

Quinn finally took the time to examine the pool house and found that in spite of it being vacant for God knows how long, it was clean and well furnished. There was a flat screen television in the living room, with a glass coffee table. One cream-colored armchair sat sideways, facing the television while three coffee-colored couches sat around the coffee table.

She went back into the bedroom and opened the other door, which led to a bathroom. Her eyes widened at the big round tub in the middle of the bathroom and the walk-in shower taking up a good portion of the room. She walked out quickly and made her way to the other side of the living room. Her hand twisted the knob and there was a mini gym there. Equipment was set up and all ready to use and she couldn't help but whistle.

Looks like Rachel managed to make a lot of money with her career, Quinn thought and smiled. Good for her.

When she was finished with the coffee, she washed the cup in the sink and put it back to its rightful place before heading into the bathroom. She decided to use the walk-in shower instead of the tub. She didn't really want to break anything. A chuckle escaped her lips when she saw the music notes on the tiled wall.

 _Typical_ , she thought and turned on the heater, proceeding to take her much-needed shower.

* * *

Rachel woke up at six in the morning, as per usual. Her routine had not really changed. She went downstairs to the gym for her morning workout, which took an hour. Then she took a hot bath in her comfortable bathtub while reading Nicholas Sparks. At half past seven, she got out of the tub and dressed. She went back downstairs to see her house bustling with people and sighed, heading to the kitchen. Her caramel latte was ready on the counter with her daily oatmeal. She began to eat her breakfast while catching up with the newspaper.

All these she did without thinking about Quinn. Well, as hard as she tried to not think about her; until said woman walked in the back door, pausing as she saw Rachel. Rachel's spoon was left in the bowl as their eyes locked on each other. Rachel gulped and grabbed her coffee and took a drink. Quinn stood there, stiff and not knowing what to do until Kurt came in.

"Good morning," he greeted, effectively breaking the awkwardness. "So, Quinn, it's nice to have you here. I didn't exactly…give you a very warm welcome yesterday. So welcome, Quinn!"

She shook herself mentally and smiled at him. "Yeah, thanks," she muttered and glanced at Rachel again before looking back at Kurt. "Do you have a security team or something like that?"

"As a matter of fact, we do," Rachel decided to answer, looking at Quinn. Quinn's eyes snapped to Rachel and saw nothing but challenge and…love.

Quinn shook herself mentally again. She must've interpreted the emotion behind Rachel's eyes wrong and darted her gaze away.

"Tell them they're not doing a very good job," she remarked. "Also, I'd like to meet all of them later. Just reach me on my cell when they're here." Then she walked out to the foyer to continue her patrol and check on the security measures they had taken so far. From what she had seen, they were not very up to par.

"I need to remind you that I'm your employer, Quinn." Quinn stopped at Rachel's strong tone. "At least show me some respect."

She couldn't help but smile. After four years, Rachel's freaking pride was still big as ever. She turned around, crossing her arms over her chest, not wiping that smile away and raised an eyebrow at the brunette.

"You employed me to be your bodyguard," Quinn began. "I'm just doing my job here. Your security team is not doing a good job  _securing_  you. Really, I can list out all of the things that I find completely at fault but I don't think you'd want to know."

"That doesn't explain your disrespect towards me,  _Quinn_ ," Rachel emphasized.

She clinched her jaw and shifted her weight to one foot. "Miss Berry, all due  _respect_ , the security measures you've taken are by far the worst I've ever seen. God knows how many more mistakes I'll find later. One second wasted talking to you is one second exposing you to more danger. If your pride is more important than your safety right now, I guess you should just fire me and your security team and just let yourself be killed sooner or later."

Their eyes locked in silent battle. Admiration and defiance surged throughout their senses but they didn't let any show in their eyes. They couldn't. Their stubbornness wouldn't allow them to. Kurt could practically feel electricity in the air and diffused the tension quickly as he jumped between them, breaking their eye contact.

"Okay!" he squealed breathlessly and looked between them nervously. "Rachel, I have to talk to you about your show tonight and Quinn, please go on with your inspection of the house. I will surely call you as soon as the security team is here, which shouldn't be long."

Quinn nodded curtly and walked away.

Rachel huffed and crossed her arms over her chest, glaring at Kurt. "Why did you do that?"

"What happened to yesterday? You practically yelled at her telling you missed her and now both of you are like dinosaurs fighting for a piece of meat," Kurt said, staring at her with wide eyes. "And don't tell me it's all about your self dignity, Rachel. That was nothing about dignity."

"You're wrong, Kurt. I pay her every freaking week so I have a right to ask for respect." Rachel abandoned her breakfast and stormed up the stairs. "Also, Kurt, I  _do not_ have a show tonight. I have a movie to film."

"Yeah, yeah, sure, I just said that to break both of you apart. And no, you have a day off today," Kurt informed, following her upstairs.

She scoffed and stalked into her study, sitting behind the desk and turning on her computer. "I really can't believe you sometimes."

"I think I should be the one saying that."

"No you don't," she snapped, glaring at him. "Now go away. I have Tetris to defeat."

He rolled his eyes and walked out, muttering, "What is it with you and that game?"

* * *

She had compiled and written every loophole she had found in the mansion and handed the list to the head of the security team, Azimio Adams. The black guy took it – more like snatched it – from her and read it, scowling hideously as he reached the end of the list. He glared at her and smacked it on the table, startling everyone but her.

"Are you kidding me?" he bellowed, spitting all over her face.

She calmly reached for her handkerchief in her back pocket and wiped her face clean. Then she calmly met his eyes and enunciated, "No."

He crumpled the paper and waved it in front of her. "This is literally everything in the house!" he bellowed again. She nodded. "Are you trying to undermine me, Fabray?"

"No," she said again. "This house has loopholes  _everywhere_ , Adams. I don't have time to undermine you. Your team is not doing a good job and I'm just pointing it out." She looked around her in the kitchen, addressing everyone. "I get paid twenty thousand every week so I'm not going to sweet talk my way into your pathetic team and get you to like me. Either you fix this or I'll make sure by the end of the week you and your team will be replaced entirely by  _my_  people."

Azimio narrowed his eyes at her and glared at the now creased paper again, then back at her. She didn't cower away when his fierce eyes met hers. He exhaled harshly, his stench permeating her nose.

"I'll submit the list to Hummel and have these all done and fixed as fast as we can," he finally said.

She nodded and let a tiny smile tugged on her lips. Her eyes wandered the room and landed on a brunette who had a hint of respect in his eyes. She looked away and back to the black guy in front of her.

"Your team sucks," she repeated. His anger seemed to have risen again and she chuckled. "Be angry all you want but I'm going to repeat this again. Your. Team.  _Sucks_ ," she enunciated each word. "You guys come to work without a schedule and that is unacceptable. The guards you assign to the guardhouse can't even  _guard_." She relayed what happened yesterday to Azimio and he seemed to have a little regret afterwards. "Also, there's no one on patrol at all. From today onwards, I want at least two people on patrol. One in the house and one outside. No exceptions."

"Just because you came out from the army doesn't mean you get a say in everything, Fabray," Azimio growled dangerously. "Also, I heard you were discharged temporarily because you were injured. Apparently you weren't doing a very good job either."

She stiffened and was prepared to retort before a familiar voice broke in. "Quinn gets a say in every one of my security issues from now on, Azimio." Their heads snapped to Rachel who was standing at the doorway glowering at Azimio. "She's the captain of the team now."

"Miss Berry –"

"Azimio," Rachel snapped and raised her brow at him. He closed his mouth and huffed. "Do you think I would need to hire a special bodyguard from the army if you were doing a good job?" she questioned and he looked guilty. "Now go and do everything that needs to be done."

The team all walked out of the kitchen and Azimio was  _shouting_ orders at his teammates angrily, leaving Quinn and Rachel alone in the kitchen. Quinn looked down at her feet, her strong façade fading away and when she realized it, she quickly replaced her fragile expression with a poker face, looking up at Rachel. She nodded at Rachel with gratitude and was prepared to walk out before the brunette stopped her.

Quinn paused in her steps and turned to face Rachel who was looking at her pleadingly. She gulped and dared herself to meet Rachel's eyes, but she couldn't. All the years in the field firing her rifle still didn't give her the courage to face the woman she had disappointed four years ago.

A layer of silence engulfed them and they stood there, facing each other yet not really  _facing_  each other.

"Thank you for doing this," Rachel said softly.

Quinn looked up in surprise and was even more surprised when she saw gratitude and love – again – in Rachel's eyes. She nodded before walking out the back door to the pool house.

* * *

Quinn stomped into the pool house, holding the tears in and slammed the door behind her before throwing herself onto the couch. She covered her forehead with her forearm and took a shuddering breath and held it. When she finally had to release it, she was pretty sure that the feeling of not breathing couldn't even compare to what she felt every time she saw Rachel and she just had to do these things to her.

Her phone buzzed in her pocket and she quickly dug it out, not even bothering to glance at the caller ID and answered it. "What?"

"Wow, someone who didn't keep her promise is in a really bad mood," Sam's voice floated into her ear and she opened her eyes to stare at the ceiling. "You did promise you'd call me every day, Quinn. And it's five in the evening now and you still haven't."

"That meant I have seven more hours until tomorrow. Aren't you just needy, Evans?" Quinn teased and smiled softly. "I hope you haven't destroyed my apartment."

Sam chuckled. "Yes, I am a needy baby who needs his blonde mommy to feed him," he mimicked a baby's voice and she laughed. "And no, I haven't destroyed your apartment. Not yet, anyway," he added.

"Don't you dare do anything to my apartment, Sam Evans," she warned.

She could practically hear him shrug on the other end of the line. "Yeah I'll try," he teased. "Anyway, how's the job going? Is it fun? Who's the celebrity? Is it a he or she? If it's a she is she hot?" he fired his questions without stopping.

Reminded of her current job, her humor dissipated, replaced by agony and she just  _wanted_  to leave the house right this second. But she knew she couldn't. She slapped herself mentally for being so freaking weak. She scolded herself for still being so fucking in love with the boss of the mansion.

"Quinn?" Sam's voice snapped her back to reality and she silently thanked him for that. "Is everything okay?"

She nodded even though she knew he couldn't see her right now. "Yeah, everything's fine." She stared into the space for a couple of seconds before adding, "I guess."

"What do you mean, 'you guess'?" Sam asked, alarmed.

"To answer your questions," she said loudly, "the job sucks because my employer has the worst security system I have ever seen in my life. And that's saying something after my short trip to Iran last year. I had to give the captain of the security team a list of things to fix and he kept bitching because he's jealous."

"Quinn –" Sam said, trying to steer them back to his intended discussion but she cut him off again.

"So it's not fun," she said loudly, coveting his voice. "The celebrity is a she," she informed Sam and took a deep breath, chuckling dryly at herself for what she was about to say. "And she's definitely hot." Her voice cracked and it was like a light bulb went off in his head.

"Oh shit she didn't," he muttered.

"Oh yes Lopez did," Quinn said with a humorless laugh. "She fucking did," she whispered.

Sam was taking deep breaths, as if calming himself and she knew he was on the verge of calling Santana and giving her a piece of his mind, which she was sure he was going to do after they hung up.

"Santana didn't really give me a heads up about the person I was going to be guarding until I came here and saw Hummel at the front door. And then she came up and it felt like the world was finally crashing down on me," Quinn rambled. "Then she had to fucking say she missed me. And then this morning she just had to uphold her fucking dignity and ask for my fucking respect. Hours later she just had to stand up for me with Azimio Adams and thanked me. But you know what, Sam? After everything, I still…I still love her like fuck and she was like a freaking goddess standing there in front of me."

"Okay, Quinn, you need to calm down," he soothed. She choked on her own air and coughed. "Why don't you just leave and let another person take the job?"

Quinn stared up at the ceiling as if she could find the answer there. But inside, she knew she wouldn't have to find it. She already knew the answer. "She's Rachel Berry." Her eyes wandered from the chandelier to the patterns on the ceiling and released a sigh. "She's Rachel Berry," she repeated.

Sam echoed her sigh. "You're doing a really bang up job of helping yourself there, Quinn," he muttered.

She released a dry laugh. "I know right?"

"So you plan to just…stand there and watch over her like a German shepherd?" he asked.

"I think I'm more like a mix between a Labrador and Rottweiler," she said with a grin. "You know, I still want to follow her around and let her pet me like a goddamn Labrador. On the other hand, I'm willing to kill just to protect her."

He laughed loudly and hummed in agreement. "Yeah, that sounds about right." A moment of silence passed between them before he asked, "So I'm guessing there's no chance for me to ask you out for a drink since you're so busy protecting her."

"Why? You want to ask me out on a date?" she joked.

"I tried that five years ago. You shot me down and told me you don't play on my team," deadpanned Sam. "I just wanted to hang out with you. You know, you came back for like one month and then you were off protecting your ex-girlfriend – whom you haven't gotten over. I missed you. We all did."

She smiled and silently thanked her friends for being there with her no matter how. "I missed you guys too. Tell you what? When Santana and Brittany come to New York next week, you can come here and we'll have fun in this awesome pool house. I'm pretty sure Kurt won't disagree."

"Will she agree?" he queried quietly.

She stayed silent for a moment as her mind tried to find the right words. Actually, she didn't even know what she was supposed to say. Then she sighed. "I'll ask her about it tomorrow," she answered.

"You sound tired, Quinn."

"Yeah well I've been thinking  _a lot_  since I first laid eyes on her yesterday, so yes, I  _am_  tired," she explained and ran her hand over her face. "I can't sleep though. My case of insomnia ain't going away."

"I'll leave you to your rest. Just call me tomorrow, okay?" Sam reminded, his voice filled with concern.

"I will, Sam. Thanks."

"What for?"

She hummed and smiled. "Just thanks for being there for me all this time."

He chuckled. "Anytime, Q Fab. Rest well. Good night."

"Good night."

She hung up and threw her phone on the coffee table before leaning back again, laying her forearm over her forehead and sighed in exhaustion. She'd been through a lot in these couple of days. And Sam was right. She was just  _exhausted_  to the point that she could be out on the street and she could still fall asleep. If it wasn't for this damn insomnia, she swore she'd be asleep right now.

Or if Rachel was in her arms. An image of Rachel flashed through her mind and she grunted, squeezing her eyes shut.

"You'll be the death of me, Rachel Berry."


	4. Questions

Everybody was waiting in the kitchen when she returned. She looked around the room, lingering on Rachel for a second longer before settling her gaze on Azimio. She narrowed her eyes at him before clearing her throat, holding her stare.

"Someone broke into the pool house," she announced, her gaze focused on Azimio. "How did that happen?"

Azimio rolled his eyes and uncrossed his arms. "You live there. Why don't you tell us?"

She clenched her teeth and faced him, her hair falling over one shoulder as she tilted her head. Unaware of a certain lustful gaze on her, she replied, "I was out teaching Karofsky how to drive so he can get Miss Berry to safety with as little harm possible, in case anything happens. Forgive me for doing my job and ensuring my employer's safety."

Azimio glared at her before leaning back against the counter. "As far as we know, there wasn't any intruder. My team has done everything according to schedule. They patrolled. They kept their eyes on Rachel at all times. We have no idea how someone could break into the freaking pool house."

"Obviously someone was slacking off," Quinn jibed. Azimio looked ready to fight back but Quinn didn't give him a chance to. "Where were  _you_?"

"I was in the basement, checking out the firearm left for us by the last head of the team," he said without hesitation and Quinn could tell he wasn't lying.

She frowned and her mouth opened for a couple of seconds before saying, "You have firearm and you don't use it?"

Azimio looked sheepish and he cleared his throat. "The lockbox was locked and I didn't have the key. I was trying to pick the lock just now…for the hundredth time in my entire career," he added quietly.

She shook her head and cursed under her breath. She dragged her hand through her hair and turned to Marley. She could see the logbook in Marley's hands, and asked for it by holding out her hand. Marley nodded and gave it to her obediently. Quinn muttered a 'thanks' before sitting on a stool around the island and flipping the book open to the entries logged after 5:00 pm that day.

There were five people who arrived at 5:30. "Artie Abrams, William Schuester, Dustin Goolsby. Emma Pillsbury, Finn Hudson." She frowned and went back to one of the names. "Dustin Goolsby," she trailed off. It sounded familiar but she couldn't quite place it. Where had she heard of this person before? For the first time since she came in, she addressed Rachel and gestured at the logbook. "Who are these people?"

Rachel stared at her for a second before looking down at the list of names, her brows furrowing a little. "They're…they're part of the cast and crew of the movie I'm filming. Finn is playing the role of my character's best friend, so he's one of the leads. Artie is the director. Dustin Goolsby is the producer. He provided the budget for the filming. William Schuester and Emma Pillsbury are the writers. They're married as a matter of fact."

"Why did they come?" She bristled at the fact that they all left, while Finn Hudson stayed. She knew she shouldn't let jealousy cloud her mind but she couldn't help it. For all she knew, he was Rachel's ex-boyfriend from before Quinn. What if they were back together? Regardless of what Rachel told her just now, there was still a possibility for them to be back together.

"They came to discuss details of the movie with me. Will and Emma were planning to rewrite a scene. They were just asking for our opinions."

Quinn reread the name 'Dustin Goolsby'. It tickled in the back of her mind, but try as she might she couldn't dig out the memory of where she had heard of him. She scratched at the back of her neck while grinding her teeth.

"Quinn?" She looked up to see that Rachel had ducked her head to see her face. She could only see concern written all over her features. "What's going on in your mind?"

Quinn considered telling her but decided against it anyway. "Nothing," she quickly said and was fishing out for her phone when Rachel stopped her.

"No, it's not nothing. Whenever you were thinking hard about something, you'd scratch at the back of your neck and grind your teeth like you did just now. So, what's going on?" Rachel reiterated.

Quinn sighed and closed her eyes, cursing Rachel for understanding her so well. "What do you know about Dustin Goolsby?" she finally asked.

Rachel thought about it, her finger tapping on her chin as she thought. Then she shrugged with a frown. "He's the producer. He's got big bucks. He's uh…"

"He is not just anybody," Kurt interrupted, staring at Quinn. "Dustin Goolsby gives me the creeps, to be perfectly honest. He's got this crazy smile all the time and I have a feeling he has a thing for Rachel, 'cause he never stops leering at her."

"What? That's ridiculous, Kurt. He never leers at me!" Rachel practically squealed, slapping Kurt on the forearm.

Kurt hissed and rubbed his forearm, glaring at Rachel. "Yes, he does! Whenever you turn your back, he just has this look on his face like he's going to devour you or something. Trust me, Quinn, he's not simple. He might look amicable and laid back. But he always looks so phony and there's always something about him that always eats at me."

Quinn nodded and clicked her tongue. "His name just sounds familiar but I can't for my life recall why."

"There's nothing wrong with Dustin Goolsby." They turned to Rachel who looked determined to defend the man's honor. "Look, if it wasn't for him providing the budget, I would not be able to film this movie. We should be grateful!"

"Not me, no," Quinn murmured.

"Quinn!"

"What?" They stared at each other comically. It almost felt like they were bickering over whether or not they should be having bacon all those time's years ago. Quinn mentally shook her head and cleared her throat. "Look, you guys can be grateful to him all you want. My job is to protect you, so I'm not going to keep my suspicion off anyone," she emphasized so that the entire room could hear her. "You'll be going on set tomorrow to film this ridiculous movie of yours so why don't you go up to your room and get some sleep? I'll take care of things here."

"Why are you being such a hard-ass?" Rachel breathed, frustration crawling its way into her voice.

Quinn clenched her fists on the island and clenched her jaw, her eyes no longer warm or familiar, just ice cold and nothing else. "You hired me to be your bodyguard. A bodyguard is supposed to protect their employer, so excuse me if I'm just trying to do my job," she said sternly. Rachel looked stunned at her stiff tone. And a little afraid. Quinn slouched and dragged her hand down her face. "Look I know you have no reason to trust me right now because really, I lost that privilege four years ago, didn't I?" Her voice cracked.

"Quinn –"

"But please, just trust me one last time. Go get some sleep and I promise I will take care of it. And I will take care of you until all this nonsense ends then I'll be out of your hair," Quinn intervened; her voice had lost the authoritative tone, replaced with exhaustion and despair.

She stood up, not bothering to give Rachel a chance to say anything, and approached Azimio. "Get some of your team to check the security camera recordings for anyone suspicious. The rest of them should investigate the perimeter for any loophole that might allow an intruder to break in."

Azimio was smart enough to recognize that Quinn wasn't in the mood to argue with him, so he nodded and assigned his team. "You and I will wait at the threshold. My friend should be here any minute."

After they left, Rachel's stiff posture relaxed and she braced her elbows on the island surface, burying her face in her hands. "God, I'm going nuts," she whispered.

"She's right, Rachel. You should get some sleep. Big day tomorrow," Kurt said and pulled on Rachel's elbow. When she didn't move, Kurt sighed. "Rachel, please. Get some rest. Quinn said she'll take care of things from now on."

"I hate her."

Kurt chuckled dryly and stood next to Rachel, leaning forward against the island. "No, you don't."

Rachel stared at him for awhile before shaking her head and climbing down from the stool. She stood under the archway and breathed loudly. "No I don't," then silently walked away.

Kurt stared at the spot Rachel had previously occupied before heading to the living room, where he found his boyfriend and stepbrother sitting on the couch. The latter was impatiently bouncing his knee and rambling something about deserving to know what was going on. Kurt rolled his eyes and stood in front of them.

"Rachel's gone to bed," he announced, clapping his hands together. "Finn, you can either leave or stay in one of the guest rooms. It's up to you. Blaine, why don't you change first? I need to talk to Quinn about something."

Blaine nodded and patted Finn on the shoulder before walking past Kurt and headed to the stairs. Finn stood there, his arms on his knees and his hands clasped together as he stared at his stepbrother. Kurt stood with his arms crossed over his chest, waiting for Finn to say whatever he wanted to say.

"What's going on?" Finn finally asked.

Kurt resisted the urge to look up at the sky and scream for salvation for his stepbrother's idiocy. "I told you, Rachel's been receiving threatening letters, okay? Quinn was hired as her personal bodyguard and she was just doing her job. So, brother, with your question answered, will you please just leave or go upstairs and get some sleep? You're on set tomorrow, aren't you?"

"Yeah, yeah." Finn stood up and rubbed his jean clad thighs. "I think I'm going to stay here. I'm really tired and stuff." He was just about to walk up the stairs before he paused and half turned to Kurt. "What's the deal with Quinn anyway?"

"What do you mean?"

"Just now, she was looking at me like I killed her mother or something. And she called me a  _tool_." Finn looked offended and Kurt nearly laughed.

 _You kind of are a tool,_ he thought and cleared his throat, waving his hand dismissively in the air. "Oh don't worry about it. She's just wary of everyone because, you know, the pool house she lives in was broken into and you were one of the visitors who came after she left it."

Finn nodded and muttered an agreement before climbing up the stairs. Kurt rolled his eyes again and ambled towards the main door.

* * *

Quinn stopped at the threshold with Azimio next to her. She craned her neck to glance at the driveway, checking for any cars that might be heading towards them. She checked her phone for any missed calls or messages. There was a text from Santana claiming that she had called Sam, and also had two more people heading their way as reinforcement.

She replied an agreement and tucked her phone back into her pocket before settling down on the top step, to wait for Sam's arrival. Azimio took out his cigarette pack and popped one between his lips. He searched his pockets for a lighter and lit the cigarette when he found it. Quinn tried not to grimace at the odor wafting toward her.

"So what's the deal between you and Miss Berry?" he finally breached the silence.

She stiffened and looked at him over her shoulder. He was staring at him with a brow raised. "None of your business," she finally answered and turned back.

He scoffed and murmured, "Yeah right."

She furrowed her brows and pursed her lips into a thin line. She tried to reassemble her jumbled mind to find the right response without having them break out into a fight. She finally settled on a quiet, "Shut your mouth before I do it for you."

He obviously didn't get the message. "You obviously have history with her and you obviously still have feelings for her. You do know that this job shouldn't involve any emotional interception because it might ruin it for you. Not that I don't want you to ruin it, but you're protecting my boss, so whatever."

She jumped onto her feet and stalked towards him in two aggressive strides. "Yeah, well you should say that to Santana Lopez, not me," she snarled in his face. Azimio took a step back, as she was far too close and the aggression in her eyes was starting to scare him.

This was how Kurt found them when he came out the front door. "Wow, did I interrupt something?"

Quinn clenched her jaw and stepped away from Azimio's personal space. "What do you want, Kurt?"

Kurt threw a cautious look at them before stepping closer to Quinn, pulling her away from Azimio. "I'm just wondering who might that friend be." He stared at her expectantly. "I have a hunch he or she is going to be someone I know."

She raised her brow and smirked. "You're gonna have to wait and see," she croaked.

He huffed and scowled at her, crossing his arms. "Come on, Quinn. Stop hiding things from me. I need to know. I have to inform the guard to let whoever it is in anyway."

She turned to him halfway and eyed him for a moment before opening her mouth to answer him but her phone rang and interrupted her. "Sorry," she muttered and answered it. "Quinn Fabray."

"Hey, I'm outside but the guard won't let me in so can you please be so kind to tell him that I'm harmless?" Sam said, obviously annoyed.

"Pass the phone to him." When the phone was passed, Quinn told the guard that Sam was to be allowed to enter from now onwards. "You took a little longer than expected," she told Sam.

"Yeah well I was crapping when Santana called me. Trust me, my ear was all blown up because I didn't answer her calls,  _twice_. Jesus, that woman needs treatment. She's so on edge."

Quinn laughed and nodded. "Don't I know it? Hey, I see your car now. Talk to you very soon." She shoved her phone into her pocket and smiled at Kurt. "He's coming. You can see for yourself."

True enough, a dark blue Corvette drove up and around the fountain, finally stopping in front of the mansion. The windows were tinted so she couldn't see Sam inside. The engine was cut and the door opened to reveal the grinning face of Sam Evans. Only then did she realize that she just missed her friend so much she didn't care that Azimio and Kurt were watching, she just ran down the steps and jumped into Sam's arms, laughing into neck.

"God I missed you," she muttered and nuzzled into his neck.

He laughed and wrapped his arms around her as well, squeezing her tightly. "Me too, Q Fab. Me too." They released each other eventually and laughed again. "So before I send the envelope for processing, I have news." He took a deep breath and smiled slightly. "Santana made a few calls, and within a couple of hours she managed to snag two people from two different forces, the CIA and the FBI, to help you out."

Quinn frowned. "Wait, two?"

He nodded. "Yeah. Two. She said something like you needing help and that Ra- _Berry_  is driving you crazy," he corrected quickly but she didn't miss his almost slipup anyway. He glanced at her guiltily and cleared his throat. "One of them is me." He grinned when he saw her grin. "So, mate, ya ain't getting rid of me anytime soon," he adopted a country accent.

She laughed and smacked his chest lightly. "I'm not worried about that. So…who's the other person?" she trailed off as the passenger door on the other side opened.

"You're gonna love this," he said with a grin and turned around. "Come on out, dickhead!" he called, laughing.

"Shut your trap!" That voice was familiar.

She narrowed her eyes as the door opened wider; she heard feet stepping on the ground, the pebbles crunching under the mysterious man's shoes. Then a shaved head appeared over the roof of the car. Her eyes widened as she realized who it was.

"No way," she whispered in disbelief.

A man stood straight with his back to her before he slowly spun around with that stupid cocky grin she knew too well glued on his face. "Hey there, Quinn," he drawled, winking.

"Wait, who are you?" She frowned at him. Sam's grin dropped, as did the new guy. There was a pause where she heard a quiet gasp from Kurt. Then her lips slowly turned into a huge smile and her eyes twinkled with mischief. "Just kidding."

"Goddamn it, Q!" Sam hissed, but she could hear the smile in his voice.

Puck's jaw dropped, then he rounded the car in a flash and tackled her onto the driveway, tickling her sides as she laughed. "Don't you dare play me like that again!" Puck growled playfully. He stopped tickling her to stand and help pull her up, then wrapping her in a big bear hug, lifting her off the ground and spinning around.

Quinn shrieked and chortled heartily before yelling for Puck to put her down. "You shaved your head," she whined, rubbing his bald head roughly.

He shrugged and smirked. "Mohawk's annoying me so I shaved it off. So, you prepared for not one, but two housemates?"

She sobered and turned to see Kurt looking at them with amusement and Azimio standing just behind him with his jaw dropped. Probably because he'd never seen Quinn having so much fun before or maybe he had never thought Quinn could be so playful. She shrugged and turned back to her two best friends.

"As long as Kurt gives the okay, we can even sleep in the same bed and snuggle," she joked. Puck's face lit up. "And no, Puck, you're not getting any threesome." His grin slipped off and Sam laughed, punching him in the shoulder.

"Now that's just too naughty, Quinn," Kurt commented, clucking his tongue as he made his way down the steps to stand in front of all three of them. He smiled at the two men. "It's been a long time, both of you."

Puck and Sam smiled, both slapping him on the shoulders – a little too roughly judging by Kurt's expression. "It's nice to see you again," Puck replied and Sam nodded in agreement. "Though I'm not really too sure about our temporary employer," he said airily.

Kurt shrugged. "Well you don't have any choice, do you?" he said it more like a statement than a question. "Anyway, I'm afraid the pool house doesn't have s guestroom, so you just have to live here in the mansion. Also, no, I'm not allowing you two to share a bed with Quinn. I can't risk Rachel's bodyguards having sexual relations with each other and possibly ruining the dynamic."

Quinn rolled her eyes and put her hand on her hip while the other one dragged through her hair. "Really, Kurt?" She stared at Kurt, almost too bored but he could a little hint of offense in her eyes. "You know better than that. I haven't had sex in four years and you should know why," she informed quietly and kicked at the pebbles on the driveway. "They can take the couch if you're so afraid. There  _are_  two, after all."

Kurt sighed. "Quinn, don't take this as a personal offense. I'm just trying to keep things professional."

"I don't even swing on their team!"

"Dyke," Azimio muttered on the steps and whistled, ignoring the thousand watt glare Quinn was currently sending his way.

Kurt rolled his eyes and snapped his fingers to gain back their attention. His gaze flitted from Puck to Sam then to Quinn. "I'll have sleeping bags sent over," he finally said, smiling a little. "Don't even try anything," he warned before walking up the steps into the mansion.

"Where's the envelope, Quinn? I gotta take it to headquarters. I'll be back in two hours," Sam told them, holding out his hand. Quinn handed the bag containing the recording and the envelope to Sam. Sam stared it skeptically before shaking his head. "You big coward."

"I can hear you," Quinn snapped. "And we'll talk about it when you come back. Tell them to analyze the recording I burned onto the DVD. Maybe they could get a head-start on who it is. Now get on with it!"

Sam huffed and got into the car and drove away, leaving Puck with Quinn and Azimio, who had a bored look on his face. Quinn lifted her wrist to see what time it was. Twenty minutes before midnight. She patted Puck on the shoulder and gestured for him to follow her. She skipped up the steps and stopped in front of Azimio.

"Now, you bring me to basement and let me see the firearm," she demanded.

"Oh come on! Can't we do this tomorrow? I want to go back home and I want to sleep," Azimio complained, almost to the point of whining.

"Wow, and he was the team leader?" Puck deadpanned, unimpressed.

"Hey, who the hell are you to talk?"

"Azimio!" Quinn pronounced sternly, glaring at him. "This is Puck and that was Sam. They're on the team now so start cooperating  _now_. That goes for you too, Puckerman."

Puck rolled his eyes and hooked his thumbs on his belt loops. "Yeah whatever. So are we taking a look at the guns or not?"

The black man looked about to complain again but Quinn shut him off. "You don't get to go back home and sleep. Your team is still doing their job and when they're still awake, you're awake too. So am I. It's all fair and square. You can either get some coffee in the kitchen later or you can just fight to keep your eyes open. I don't care. Now, guns."

Azimio groaned and led them to the back of the garage. There was a small wooden shed there and Quinn frowned. Why had she not come across to it before? He produced a flashlight and turned it on, sticking it between his teeth as he attempted to unlock the huge padlock. The door opened with a creak, revealing a flight of stairs that lead down to the basement.

"I don't understand. Why do you have a cabin? It's just stairs to the basement," Puck stated in confusion.

The other man shrugged and motioned at the stairs. "After you," he said with a smile too wide for comfort.

Quinn took the flashlight from Azimio and made her way down the stairs. She stood at the bottom and waited for her two companions to come down as well. Azimio ambled past Quinn and found the switch to turn on the lights. The lights flickered before illuminating the path before them. It was obvious the power was weak because the lights were very dim.

She looked around her and found herself in a small cement room. There were spider webs all over the space and she could hear water dripping somewhere. Empty and dusty cabinets flanked the walls. Only one wasn't empty and it was filled only with a metal box.

She pointed at it and asked, "Is that it?" Azimio nodded and she approached it, taking it out of the cabinet and placing it on the floor. "You don't have the key?" He shook his head. Quinn sighed and produced two sharp pins from her hair and started fiddling with the lock.

She could hear Azimio scoffing behind her. "You won't be able to pick it. Even  _I_  can't get it open," he said almost too smugly.

"Keep your trap shut, you limpdick," Puck muttered from next to him.

She ignored them, sweating as she fiddled with the box. Finally, she felt a click and she smirked, pocketing the pins before opening the lid. She looked smugly over her shoulder at Azimio who was staring at her in shock. She turned back around to check the contents. There were two Guncrafters and six Glocks in it. There were also bullets for each gun tucked into different compartments.

"Wait that's all we have?" Azimio exclaimed, as if he expected a freaking AK-47 or something.

She took out a Guncrafter and weighed it in her hand. "Considering that you think having a taser is so bloody cool, these should suffice," she said and stood up. "Puck, you and Sam took your own, right?"

"Yeah."

She nodded to herself. "Don't judge a book by its cover, Azimio Adams. The same goes to these pistols." She finally turned around and held up the Guncrafter. "This might look 'uncool' and weak. But it can still kill when you aim it right. I hope you know how to shoot." He nodded numbly. "Good. You have seven people on your team, including you. These are more than enough. Take  _one_  for each one of them. I'll keep this one." She stuck it into the back of her pants and shut the lid of the box before carrying it over to him.

"Wait I though you have one of your own?" Puck said.

"I was thinking of a spare one in case mine isn't enough. You know, I've had that old thing for three years. Who the hell knows when it's going to act up and just get spoiled?" she said, narrowing her eyes at him. His tone was a little off putting and he sounded a little strained. "You got a problem with that?"

He stared at her before shaking his head. "No. You're right. You've got that old thing for a long time now. Take this one," he finally said, pointing at the pistol.

Quinn nodded before thrusting the box towards Azimio. He eyed it and took it, huffing when it landed heavily in his grip and he almost dropped onto his knees. She smirked and shook her head. Her smirk grew wider when she saw Puck trying to smother his laughter behind Azimio.

"Seriously, where did you get your training?" Puck struggled between wheezes.

Azimio grunted and steadied himself on his feet. "Shut up," he groaned and walked away, followed closely by Quinn and Puck.

They made it to the stairs, Azimio panting, wheezing and struggling for breath by the time they reached the top. Quinn shook her head again and locked the door to the cabin before dropping the key on top of the box.

"You should go join your teammates to check out the recordings. Distribute the pistols when they are all done with their job. Don't mistake the bullets for another. They are completely different," Quinn added before jerking her head at Puck, asking him to follow her.

He mock-saluted Azimio and trailed behind her, sticking his hands into his pockets. "So how did it go with Rachel Berry?" he asked, waggling his brows at her.

She stretched her arms over her head and sighed deeply. "I don't want to talk about that," she replied. "Now, we have to check out the recording. I have the program installed into my laptop as well." Then she quickened her pace towards the pool house.

"You're not going to be avoiding the topic forever, are you?" Puck asked as they entered the pool house. He lost his train of thoughts when he saw the interior of the house. "Holy shit."

She hummed and sat down on the couch, turning on her laptop, which was on the coffee table. "Seems like she made some money and pampered herself these past four years," she muttered and cleared her throat. "Good for her."

He collapsed onto the couch and scooted near her. Near enough for her to smell his cologne and her nose twitched. That was a familiar smell. She eyed him for awhile, her hands pausing on the keyboard. He stared back innocently. She sniffed again and frowned.

"What?" he asked.

Her eyes narrowed slightly before she shook her head and cleared her throat. "Nothing," she murmured and looked back to the laptop, clicking on the program icon. Instantly a bunch of windows appeared on screen, each showing the surveillance cameras' view. She rewound the recording to five that evening and they started watching, their eyes darting back and forth for anything suspicious.

Then, voila! The camera situated on the backdoor leading to the pool house showed a man in black, with sunglasses and a mask on, hiding his face. His actions were suspicious enough as it is as he looked around him before walking his way to the pool house. Then he appeared at the pool house front door, the recording of which she had burned for the headquarters to analyze.

"I think you found your guy, Q," Puck muttered, rubbing his palms together absentmindedly.

She rolled her eyes. "I found my 'guy' completely disguised like he's starring in the freaking Matrix. I need to know who this bastard is."

Puck shrugged. "You can't do anything until the HQ gives you the okay to run interference or shit like that. So why don't you turn off your laptop and sit down and tell Uncle Pucky your story?" Puck stated, closing the lid to the laptop as he leaned back, stretching his arms behind his head and staring at her expectantly.

Quinn raised a skeptical brow at him and smirked. "Uncle Pucky?" she enunciated. "That's the worst nickname I've heard from you." He chuckled and winked. She rolled her eyes and reclined in her seat next to him. "And I don't have any story to tell,  _Uncle Pucky_."

"Now that's a lie," Puck immediately cut in, staring daringly at her, daring her to deny it.

"Where's Sam anyway?" she asked, totally avoiding the current topic.

He smacked her on the shoulder and brought her attention back to him. "Stop avoiding!" he yelled in a whisper. "What's the freaking big deal of talking to me? I'm your best bro!"

She scowled at him. "I'm not talking to you about her. Period," she enunciated stiffly before standing up and jogging towards the pool. In a flash, she dove into the pool – fully dressed – and started swimming laps as though she were fighting against the clock.

He jumped onto his feet and raced to the edge of the pool, watching her. "Why is it that you can talk to Santana and Sam about it but you can't talk to me?" he yelled.

She ignored him as she swam for another five laps before her head emerged from the water surface. A water drop dripped from her head and her chin, her white shirt was completely see-through and to be honest, it sort of turned Puck on. But no matter, she didn't play in his league and he was going to respect that.

"I didn't talk to Sam or Santana about it, Puck!" she snapped and dunked her head into the pool again and swam.

"You seriously expect me to believe that?" he yelled back. "I'm not an idiot, Quinn!"

Quinn reemerged from the water surface and glared at him, brushing her hair back with her hands as she panted. "Believe it or not, Puckerman, I  _didn't_  talk to them about anything. And I'm going to keep it that way." She waded her way to the steel ladder and climbed up, squeezing the hem of her shirt to get rid of some water before padding into the pool house and into the bedroom.

She strode towards the wardrobe and slid the door opened. She tugged the drenched shirt over her head and threw it into the hamper before unclasping her bra. Eventually, the pile of clothing gathered as she stood completely naked in front of the wardrobe. She randomly threw on a purple tank top and a pair of torn jeans.

She opened the door to see Puck nursing himself with a Budweiser and she rolled her eyes before joining him on the sofa. "You're buying a new can for me," she drawled and crossed her arms, laid back and closed her eyes.

"Oh come on!" Puck groaned. "It's just a can of beer."

"I paid for it so  _I_ can drink it. So you're either going to replace it or give me back my money," she retorted.

"Geez, you're so freaking stingy."

A knock sounded on the door and she grunted, standing up and heading for the door. Sam was standing outside when she opened it and she smiled, gesturing for him to come in. He came in and grinned when he saw Puck sitting on the sofa.

"Dude, you have Budweiser!" he exclaimed and strode into the kitchen to grab himself one.

Quinn rolled her eyes and when he came out, she said, "You're replacing it tomorrow."

He froze, the lip of the can to his mouth. He lowered the can and swallowed. "Are you serious? It's just a freaking beer!"

"That's what I said!" Puck commented. "And she said she bought it so she could drink it. So we're gonna have to replace them tomorrow. Fucking stingy. She's got loads of money with this job and she's asking for money from us."

"Do I look like I run a charity to you?" Quinn said, dropping onto the armchair as Sam sat down next to the other man. "Look, it's late. If you guys wanna sleep, grab the sleeping bags and sleep. I know you guys are tired. But wake up before eight tomorrow. We're heading out at nine. I need to check up on a few things."

She stood up and grabbed her phone before walking out the door. She stood outside the pool house and studied her surroundings. She inspected the bushes and found nothing, so she walked up the pavement to the backdoor and slipped in. It was eerily quiet and she kept a watchful eye around her as she walked herself to the gym. It was dark, and shadows crept up the floors and walls, cast from the moonlight shining through the thin curtains.

She found the switch and flipped it. Instantly, the room flooded with light and her eyes widened slightly at the equipment and the interior design. It was like a real gym, equipped with the best and the design was convenient and simple. She headed to the bench area and looked around. The windows couldn't be opened, and most of the walls were lined with mirrors. She frowned and looked down the floor, seeking any sign of a clue that could be left by the suspect.

She scanned the entire gym and found nothing. This person was an expert in disguising and concealing. She couldn't help but be impressed.

"What are you doing here?"

She spun around and saw Rachel standing at the door. She swallowed and tilted her head up to face her, readying herself for the bombardment of questions she was sure to receive.


	5. no answer

Quinn's eyes flickered from Rachel's to the wall next to her. She didn't have the courage to meet the brunette's eyes and see the emotions lingering behind those soulful brown eyes that always took her breath away. She took a shuddering breath, looking at everything and everywhere but Rachel. Her hands kept slapping her thighs lightly, a habit she had when she was anxious or nervous.

She could hear Rachel stepping forward and latching the door closed behind her. She still refused to look at the brunette.

Quinn swallowed as her gaze traveled to Rachel's bare feet. She gulped again at the glistening skin under the dim light and couldn't help but let her vision travel upwards. Her throat went dry when her eyes reached the top of Rachel's endless legs. The nightdress the actress was wearing was incredibly short and so  _fucking_  thin that Quinn could literally see her skin through the dress.  _Jesus H. Fuck,_  she thought as her eyes slowly roamed upwards to Rachel's swelling cleavage, barely contained within the confines of the nightdress's low neckline. Rachel's neck was supple and looked oh so delicious; as always. She released a shuddering breath and finally met those expressive brown eyes and her breath was literally taken away.

There was a tinge of amusement in those swirling brown orbs. Quinn could also see the questions, confusion and, if she wasn't mistaken, adoration hiding there as well. The blonde stopped slapping her thighs and stood there like a statue. They were far apart but it was as though everything around them vanished as they looked into each other's eyes.

Quinn shuddered at the way Rachel was staring; it was as if she could look straight into Quinn's  _soul_. It was immensely unnerving because Quinn always kept to herself and to have someone stare at her with such inquisition and perception was foreign to her.

"Stop doing that," she whispered after what seemed to be like centuries.

Rachel blinked and immediately the soundproof bubble that surrounded them popped and everything whooshed back to Quinn. The faint humming of the air conditioner, the gym equipment and  _everything_. Rachel frowned and opened her mouth.

"Stop staring at me like you know me," Quinn answered before she could ask. "Because I assure you, Miss Berry, you  _don't_  know me."

"Don't I?" Rachel said. Quinn sucked in a breath at Rachel's words. "And can we please just cut the crap here? We're alone in here. There's no one else around us. So can you please start calling me by my actual name?"

"I am your employee. I don't call my employers by their first names,  _Miss Berry_ ," Quinn stressed. "You should be getting some sleep. You have an early day tomorrow and talking to me in the middle of the night is not helping at all."

Rachel stared at her helplessly and groaned loudly, clenching her fists. She took a couple of calming breaths before quickly approaching Quinn. She stopped when they were truly face to face with only a few feet separating them.

Quinn's heart skipped a beat. She could feel Rachel's breath lapping against her face. She knew if she even looked down one tiny bit, she would see something she hadn't seen in four years, and something that she would  _really_  love to touch. She gulped and pursed her lips into a thin line.

The brunette didn't miss the way the blonde's eyes had dilated as she breathed harshly in Quinn's face. Her heart fluttered when she saw the swirls in Quinn's hazel eyes with little flecks of amber and green swimming inside. They were  _beautiful_ , just like Quinn. Rachel couldn't help the tiny smile tugging at her lips. At least Quinn still had some sort of sexual reaction when she saw Rachel.

"Miss Berry," Quinn whispered, her voice strained. She clenched and unclenched her fists, willing herself to not lose control and take Rachel then and there. "Watch what you're doing."

Rachel's smile stayed on her face and she shrugged. "I didn't know talking was something unacceptable," she teased. She smirked when Quinn looked slightly surprised for a second before she was back to being expressionless. Well, as expressionless as she could, seeing that she seemed to be a bit frustrated right now. Before Quinn could say anything, Rachel stated, "I have questions. Questions I would very much like to be answered."

Even if she had braced herself for them, she would never really be ready. These were questions that would somehow dig into her years in the army. The years where she desperately tried to get herself killed. Quinn took a deep breath and a step back. She couldn't stand to be in such close proximity to Rachel

"Go ahead," she said, her voice cracked to her annoyance. "Ask me."

Rachel tried to piece together her question with appropriate words, but opened her mouth and came out with, "Why is there an envelope with my name written on it in your handwriting?" She knew it wasn't a nicely worded question, but really, how was she supposed to word it?

She knew Rachel was going to ask that question but she still couldn't stop the wince from coming. She clenched her jaw and cleared her throat as she shoved her hands into her pockets, shifting her weight to her other side.

"Are you…are you sure you're ready to hear the answer? I mean, it's in the past. And I can assure you that I'm not the culprit behind all of these fucked up shenanigans," Quinn said, waving in the air. "You have a successful career. It's all that matters now, isn't it?"

Rachel tilted her head and raised her brow skeptically. "Really, Quinn? Do you really believe that?"

The other woman released a desperate sigh and ran her hand through her hair. "Ra- Miss Berry…" she whispered. The brunette didn't miss her slip up and she couldn't help but smile a little. Quinn rolled her eyes. "You're being a little irrational here, don't you think?"

"Am I?" Rachel quickly said, raising both of her eyebrows now. "I think I deserve to hear those ans –"

Quinn mirrored Rachel's face; nobody could do a better eyebrow raise than she could. She inclined her head a little and scoffed dryly. "You think so?" she interrupted. "You think you deserve the answers?"

"Yes!" Rachel insisted. "I do!"

"No!" Quinn retorted harshly. "Miss Berry, I can assure you that you don't deserve any answers." Rachel looked utterly shocked, the initial tenderness she had vanished completely. "In case you don't correctly recall, you  _left_  me. I intended on coming back to you with all my heart." Her voice was hard and strained, as if she was trying to not cry.

"I was  _afraid_ , Quinn!" Rachel exclaimed.

"You were not afraid!" Quinn cut in. Rachel gasped. Quinn's chest inflated and deflated with every breath she took. Her features softened to a desperate and sad look. "You were not afraid," she said, her voice no longer hard. "I just…I remember very clearly what happened. You had a job opportunity in LA and you took it. That was why you left." Rachel began shaking her head. "And don't tell me you didn't mean it because I know you, or at least I did, and you  _always_ mean what you say."

"Quinn –"

"And despite everything, Miss Berry, I still loved you. I was sent to Iraq and I wrote letters to you that were never sent. I kept them in a box and I took them with me everywhere. I even brought them here with me. That was how I knew the pool house was broken into. That envelope was one of those that I keep my letters in. I don't know how that bastard knew about them, but he did. And I'm going to find him."

Rachel was rendered speechless. She didn't know what to say. She was utterly shocked and moved beyond belief. She couldn't believe that Quinn actually wrote letters to her. She couldn't believe that Quinn still loved her after what she did. But the past tense of it all was disconcerting. Rachel was determined to make it a present tense again. She stood there motionless, gaping at Quinn like a fool and just  _speechless_.

Quinn sighed and dragged her palm down her face, trying to school her features. "And there you have it. The answer to your question. Now if you'll excuse me, Miss Berry, I have a job to do."

She sidestepped Rachel and was nearly out the door before she said, "I don't know if you remember, but I promised that I would always keep you safe. I intend to keep that promise."

The actress gasped and spun on her heels. Quinn was already gone by then. She flopped down onto the bench and buried her face in her hands. She groaned as the memories flashed back into her mind.

* * *

_It was Christmas Eve, a year after they moved in together, and Rachel was trying to place the plastic star on top of the Christmas tree they bought. Despite the fact that Rachel was Jewish and didn't celebrate Christmas, Quinn did and she intended on making this the best Christmas Quinn had ever had._

_She suddenly lost her foothold on the stool she was standing on and tumbled down to the floor. She waited for the pain to come, but instead felt softness and warmth beneath her. She opened her eyes and saw Quinn grimacing and grunting beneath her. She squealed and scrambled off her girlfriend and pulled her onto the couch._

_She kept scolding her for being so stupid and crazy and she should have just let her fall. To her surprise, Quinn had only laughed. Rachel chastised the blonde for laughing after hurting herself like that, but Quinn turned to gaze at her with so much love and adoration._

_Then she said, "Sweetheart, I will_ _**always** _ _keep you safe. I promise."_

* * *

Quinn sat on the floor against the bed. Puck and Sam were snoring like pigs in the living room. She chugged down the can of beer in her hand and set it down before opening another one. She didn't know how much she had drunk but she certainly felt sober as fuck right now. Joining the army had increased her stamina and made much less of a lightweight she was before.

She let the bittersweet spiciness of the beer taint her taste buds and throat. It was a trying day for her and for the love of God she just couldn't sleep. She tried to sleep when she came back, but she'd rolled around in bed for the better half of the hour and decided that she wasn't getting any sleep for the night. She got up and grabbed half a dozen of beers from the fridge, and had been sitting there drinking for the rest of the night.

It was nearly dawn from the look of it, and she drank the rest of her beer before collecting the empty cans and discarding them in the dustbin. Someone would eventually clean that up. She took a look at the clock above the television in the living room and saw that it was fifteen minutes after six. She went into the bathroom and splashed her face with water to clear her head before she changed into her workout clothes. As she passed by her bed, a subtle aroma wafted to her nose.

She paused in her tracks and turned back around with a frown. She neared the side of the bed and sniffed again. This was a familiar scent. What was it again? She knelt down in the spot she had sat in while riffling her suitcase earlier and could tell the smell was the strongest there.

As if it was a lightbulb moment, she suddenly remembered Puck's cologne. Her eyes widened and her impulse was to deny it and ignore it, but the professional and rational side of her brain insisted that she should be suspicious. Why was Puck's cologne lingering in her bedroom? She argued that it could be used by anyone but she  _knew_  that the brand of cologne Puck always wore wasn't common. Barely anybody used it.

She hoped so much that Puck wasn't the culprit behind all this, because she certainly wouldn't know what she would do to him if it was true. Maybe he would end up in a ditch somewhere...with his pulse stopped.

She stood up and slowly walked outside, the suspicion lingering heavily in the back of her head as she gazed warily at the sleeping forms on the living room floor; especially the one with the bald head protruding out from the blanket. She took a deep breath and walked near him, her smelling senses heightening with each step.

She was sure that the cologne would be gone by now but there would certainly be some hanging onto his body. She sniffed and gulped.

There it was.

She couldn't mistake it for anything else. Her breath shuddered as she released it and she squeezed her eyes shut, staggering and bumped against a wall behind her.

What was going on here?

* * *

It took her another fifteen minutes to physically move herself away from her friend and into the gym. She worked herself out aggressively on the treadmill and lost count of the sit-ups she did. She refused to think about her new discovery or Rachel or any other shit she had in her life.

She walked out of the gym sweating all over and she wiped her face with the towel. Puck was still snoring while Sam seemed to have made himself comfortable in the only bathroom the pool house had. She grunted and approached Puck, reaching down to shake him. His snores stopped and he groaned at her, muttering inaudibly and slapping at her hand. She rolled her eyes and shook him harder.

"Wake the fuck up," she groaned. "We've got a job to do." She finally settled on kicking him a few times and stood over him as he slowly came to consciousness. He rolled onto his back and squinted at her. She faked a smile at him and put her arms behind her, bowing a little. "Good morning, Mr. Puckerman. This is your very pleasant morning wakeup call in the Berry Pool House, temporary residence of Quinn Fabray. What can I do for you?"

Puck rolled his eyes and pushed himself upright on the mattress. He pressed the palm of his hand into his eye and grunted again. "Jesus, Q, what the fuck time is it?"

"Seven in the morning, Mr. Puckerman. Was that all you wanted to know? If it is, please excuse me while I go hurry Mr. Evans along so I can take a shower. And will you please kindly make us coffee? We have one hour until we leave," Quinn said, still mimicking the tone of a polite hostess.

"Stop doing that voice. It's freaking me out," Puck complained, climbing to his feet and stretching.

She rolled her eyes and ignored the smell Puck wafted off. "Make coffee. I need coffee. I haven't had a wink of sleep," she said, finally returning to her normal tone. Then she made her way into her bedroom and to the bathroom door. She banged on the door and yelled, "Sam Evans! Hurry the fuck up!"

"Five minutes!"

"What's that? One minute? Okay!" Quinn stood back and started counting down from sixty seconds. When she reached thirty-one, the door swung open revealing a half-naked Sam, with wet hair and a towel around his waist, scowling at her. "Wow, that was less than one minute! Yay!"

He shook his head and began muttering curse words under his breath and complaining. Something about Quinn waking up on the wrong side of the bed. He walked past her and made his way out the door, leaving wet footprints on the floor.

"Actually, I didn't actually wake up cause I didn't sleep at all. Unlike you two spoiled brats!" she called and shut the bathroom door behind her.

Quinn let the scalding hot water pelt down her naked back as she stood under the showerhead and began to think. As much as she didn't want to even  _think_ , she knew she had a job and she needed to do that job; even if it meant suspecting Puck. He was one of her best friends, yes, but she wasn't paid twenty thousand per week to protect her best friend.

She had no idea how to approach Puck on the subject. It wasn't like she could just go out and ask him why she could smell his cologne in her bedroom. That would just provoke an argument between them and she was trying very hard to avoid that from happening.

 _You have_ _ **one**_ _job, Quinn Fabray. Do it right._ She chastised herself inwardly and made a growling sound as she leaned her forehead against the tiled wall.

A simple bodyguard job suddenly turned into something so complicated, twisted into her personal life. She wasn't supposed to be like that. She was supposed to be professional about everything and completely fair. Look at how that turned out? Rachel was acting like she was trying to get back with her. Which was just plain impossible. Santana was being a hard ass bitch at her. Puck was now making his way into her list of suspects. Everything just wasn't making sense any more.

She expected to come back here to the States and have a little normalcy and no more action or drama or whatever the fuck they call it in those stupid movies, not this bullshit of a life.

She bumped her forehead against the wall twice before shutting the water and grabbing the towel to dry off with. She wrapped the towel around herself and went out to see Puck sitting on the edge of the bed with his clothes and toiletries. He whistled when he saw her and she rolled her eyes.

"Don't even," she snapped and pointed over her shoulder at the bathroom. "Take your shower and I'm going to make breakfast."

He chuckled and stood up. He didn't miss the chance to slap her ass before escaping into the bathroom. She laughed a little and began dressing. She pulled on a white sleeveless shirt and a denim work shirt over it, matched with a pair of beige slacks. She wasn't in the mood to dress up and impress the boss. She combed her hair and dried it with her towel before pulling it up into a tight ponytail.

She grabbed her gun from the drawer and shoved it into her shoulder holster. The second gun, the one she obtained yesterday from the stash, was stuck it into the back of her slacks and hidden from plain sight with her shirt.

She turned around to see Sam leaning against the door panel with a curious look on his face. She raised her brows and moved past him to the kitchen. She poured cereal into three bowls and took out a jug of milk from the refrigerator and poured it into the three bowls.

"Eat up," she ordered and sat on one of the stools opposite Sam at the island.

"Why do you need two guns?" he asked with his mouth full.

She swallowed her mouthful of chewed cereal and shrugged. "Extra protection, I guess," she said.

"For what?"

"Why do you ask?" she retorted, raising her brow at him.

He lifted his shoulders and cleared his throat. "I was just curious."

She nodded and continued eating, not even bothering to say more. Puck came out eventually and he sat next to Quinn, wolfing down his bowl of cereal. A fresh waft of cologne flowed towards her nostrils and she sniffed. He'd reapplied his cologne. She eyed him for a long minute before shaking her head and going back to her cereal.

When she looked up, Sam was darting his gaze between Puck and her. He settled on her and raised his brows back at her as if asking 'What the hell?'.

She shook her head to indicate nothing, but she knew he wasn't buying it with that look on his face.

* * *

The garage was buzzing with people and the cars were started to life already. A Range Rover sat in front of two red and silver sedans. Obviously, it was the security team's ride. Sam's Corvette was behind the sedan. He made his way to it, unlocked the door and started it up.

It was obvious that Rachel was late. It wasn't a surprise. She always liked being 'fashionably late'.

Quinn shook the thought out of her head and approached the security team. They were huddling at one corner of the garage, minding their own business. Azimio was standing behind an Asian, who was typing quickly on a computer, mumbling something here and there. If she remembered right, his name was Mike Chang.

"Hey," she greeted. They looked up at her and nodded in acknowledgement before going back to what they were doing before. "The lady's not here yet?" she asked Azimio.

He shook his head and shrugged. "It's not really a surprise."

Her lips curled up at his words. She nodded knowingly and turned around to watch Rachel's team rushing around, finishing up last minute things. Kurt was blabbering into his Blackberry and Finn was just standing next to him, looking dumb as always. She couldn't find Blaine anywhere. Maybe he left.

She took a glance at her watch and saw that Rachel was already five minutes late. She frowned and stuck her hands into her back pockets, shuffling over to Puck who was leaning against the passenger side of Sam's car.

"What kind of cologne do you use?" she asked him without pause and with a straight face.

His eyes snapped to her and he was staring at her dubiously. "What?"

"What kind of cologne do you use?" she repeated her question, waiting for him to answer.

"Um…SG7." He frowned and shifted his weight. "Why?"

She shrugged and leaned against the car next to him. "Nothing."

He kept his eyes on her for another second before he gave a wary nod and turned back to the people rushing around, doing their jobs. She shook her head at them. She certainly could never do what they were doing now. Her head would surely explode at that. Another ten minutes passed before Rachel finally made her appearance. Finn was making that stupid grinning face again when he hugged the brunette, but the Rachel's focus wasn't on him. It was on Quinn; and by extension, Puck and Sam. A hint of surprise was on her face as she walked slowly towards them. Sam was sitting in the car, staring – or rather glaring – up at Rachel while Puck was trying to decide whether he should be unhappy or happy to see her. Quinn wasn't even looking at her. She was standing with her back to Rachel, looking down at her feet.

"Puck. Sam." Rachel's voice told them that she was surprised to see them. "What…what are you doing here?" she more or less squeaked.

Quinn couldn't help but smile at the adorable squeak she made but had quickly wipe it off before turning around to face her. "They are the new additions to the security team you've hired, Miss Berry." She inclined her head and added, "Good morning."

"Miss Berry," both of the men greeted in politeness. Puck finally settled on being completely emotionless about the whole matter.

"I would prefer it if you'd address me by my given name. After all, you guys do know me," Rachel suggested with a smile.

Puck turned to Quinn and the glare she was sending him told him enough. So he shook his head with a small smile. "I don't think that would be appropriate, Miss Berry."

"Yeah, they are very polite employees, so you won't be getting anywhere with them on this subject," Quinn cut in, smiling a little too pretentiously towards Rachel. "Anyway, we're late on schedule so why don't we hurry up? The earlier we're there, the faster you will be done. I hope your producers won't be unhappy with our presence, Miss Berry."

"Don't worry. I've cleared it up with the production company and everyone involved in the project," Kurt suddenly voiced, surprising all of them. He flicked his gaze from one to another with a bright smile on his face. "Come on, Quinn's right! We're late! Chop chop!" He hurried them and clapped his hands loudly so the crew would hear him.

Rachel's face fell a little but she climbed into the silver sedan, followed by Kurt and Finn. Quinn leaned down to see Puck and Sam already in their car. She pointed her thumb at the sedan and nodded at them once before opening the front passenger seat of the vehicle and climbed in. The rest of Rachel's crew sat in the other sedan while the security team sat in the two Range Rovers.

The garage door slid closed behind them as the cars slowly rode towards the gates. Quinn inclined her head in greeting at the guard standing at the guardhouse as they passed. She sat back in her seat and a bubble of silence surrounded them. Finn's knees were digging into her back through the seat. She moved so she could sit comfortably.

She could feel brown eyes burning into the back of her head and she tried her best to ignore the stare. She knew who it belonged to and she didn't want to acknowledge it unless necessary. Quinn tapped her fingers against her thigh and rolled her eyes when she could practically hear the smirk appearing on Rachel's face.

She fished out her phone and tapped a message to Santana.

_I need you to check something out for me – Q._

Not another minute and her phone buzzed. She opened the text and couldn't help but chuckle silently.

_Jesus Christ, do you like have a radar on you or something? Why the fuck do you keep interrupting me from getting my mack on with Britts? What the fuck do you want?_

Her fingers quickly typed a reply.  _Maybe I do, who knows? Anyway, I need you to check where we can get this cologne, SG7._

Her phone buzzed once the message was sent and she picked it up.

"Are you fucking with me, Q?" Santana snapped, clearly annoyed.

"No, I'm not. This is official business. I need to know where I can get this cologne," she said as softly as she could. For safety measure, she cupped her hand over her mouth. "It was the cologne the culprit was wearing yesterday."

"What? Do you have dog nose now? How the fuck do you know?"

"It's fucking heavy in the air, okay? I can smell it!" Quinn snapped.

"Why the hell are you whispering?"

"I'm in the car with all of them. I can't let them hear me, you ass," Quinn hissed. "Now will you please check it out for me?" Then she could hear shuffling through the line and then keyboard being typed. She smiled reluctantly. "And I'm telling you this. Don't tell anyone, alright?" She breathed and said, "I can smell the cologne on Puck."

The typing stopped and there was suddenly tension hanging in the air. "What are you talking about?"

"How do you think I got the name of the cologne? I don't wear colognes." She took a deep breath and removed her hand from her mouth to run it through her hair. "I smelled it on him last night, and you know we can't let go of any suspicion. So until I get evidence of an alibi, I need to keep an eye on him too."

"Are you sure, Quinn? You can't fuck around with this." Santana's annoyance disappeared, replaced by seriousness to indicate that she wasn't fooling around anymore.

"Yes, Santana, he wears the cologne. I'm not sure yet if it's him. I'll keep an eye on him and keep you posted. Text me the details when you've found it."

"Yeah I will."

"Oh and Santana?" The Latina hummed. "Fuck you for giving me such an awesome job." Then she hung up with a snicker and threw a glance over her shoulder to see Kurt and Rachel watching her in bemusement and jealousy, respectively. She gulped and stared back at them. "You guys didn't hear what I said, did you?" she asked warily.

Kurt instantly shook his head. "I'm not sure about the grinning driver though." He cocked a brow and pointed at Karofsky in front of him.

She turned to him and indeed, he was grinning like he just heard the funniest thing ever. "Please tell me you didn't hear anything."

He shrugged. "I heard a little here and there. But not the full conversation though so I really don't know what you were talking about. I'm a bit impressed with your relationship with this Santana. You guys seem friendly enough."

She side-eyed Rachel and saw that Rachel was simmering with jealousy. "She has a girlfriend, FYI. We're just best friends," she said, addressing it to both Karofsky and the brunette sitting in the back.

* * *

They reached the set twenty minutes later and Santana had already texted Quinn all the details about SG7 and where they could get it. Apparently, it was a rare brand and they could only get it from a store down on 50th street in New York.

The set was buzzing with so much life. There were props and engineers and all the confusing things involved in filming. A man in wheelchair wheeled his way out of a block and towards Rachel. She smiled and leaned down to hug him. She introduced him as Artie Abrams, the director of the film.

He bumped fists with Finn before leading them towards another block where there was faux desert on one side. Dozens of cameras were rolling around it as the actors acted their scene. A blonde girl came bumbling out from nowhere and tackled Rachel, who laughed and hugged her back. Quinn felt a slight twinge in her heart as she watched the scene.

"This is Kitty," Rachel introduced once they released each other. "She plays the girlfriend of my character." She may have said it to everyone else, but her eyes stayed on Quinn as if she was expecting a reaction from the blonde.

Quinn kept on a poker face and nodded at the other blonde. Her heart was thudding wildly and her stomach was flipping around as she imagined both of them kissing and she couldn't help but clenched fists behind her back in frustration and envy. She inhaled deeply and turned to the director.

"Is there a Dustin Goolsby here, Mr. Abrams?" she asked.

He looked up at her and nodded. "Yeah, but he won't be around for the next couple of days. He's on a trip to LA for a conference. Why do you ask?"

She shrugged. "Just curious." She looked around the set and finally settled her gaze on the security team huddling by the Range Rovers, waiting for her orders. She jerked her head towards them and said, "Excuse me while I go talk to my team." She offered a tiny smile and headed towards them in long strides. Puck was snuffing out a cigarette when she reached them. "Alright, guys, here's what you're going to do." She began ticking off jobs and when she was done, they were off. She turned towards Puck and Sam and handed them two walkie-talkies. "You guys keep an eye on her while I go check the perimeter and the environment."

They nodded and jogged towards Rachel. She felt Rachel's eyes on her and turned to the brunette who was staring at her while nodding absently at Artie's words. Quinn pursed her lips and nodded before heading off to ensure Rachel's safety on set.

Her walkie-talkie crackled every ten minutes as the team reported the situation on set. She was standing by one of the trailers and she could see it belonged to Rachel by the star on the door. She looked around her and it was awfully quiet. The actors and actresses were shooting their scenes so there wasn't anyone around. She picked up her walkie-talkie and found Sam's line.

"Sam," she called.

It took five seconds for Sam to answer. "Yeah?"

"Is she with you?"

"Yeah, she's talking with the director on how to do her scene. Why?"

"Ask her if I can go into her trailer and have a look around."

"Okay." Static crackled through and she waited as she leaned against the trailer wall. Two minutes later, the walkie-talkie crackled again. "She said no problem and take as long as you want. It's like she's expecting you to find something."

She frowned and looked back at the trailer door before answering, "Yeah, thanks. Keep an eye on her."

Quinn tucked the walkie-talkie back into her pocket and walked up the steps to the door. Her hand twisted the knob but she didn't push it open, afraid of what she would find inside. She took an encouraging breath and pushed.


	6. boom!

After two days of not working, it was nice to be back on set. She met her friends and sweet Kitty. She saw Artie and discussed a few ideas they both had running around in their heads; the conclusions were pretty satisfying for both of them. It was a pretty productive day for everyone. They shot a lot of scenes that had been delayed due to her absence and the outcome was better than they expected.

She'd been trying to catch glimpses of Quinn all day long though. Every time Artie called cut, she would snap back to reality and let her eyes wander around the set, looking for that specific golden head of hair. She did catch Quinn around a couple of times, but for no longer than ten minutes before she would disappear and Rachel would not see her again until god-knows-when. She kept wondering what Quinn had seen in her trailer. She kept wondering what Quinn would think.

Her wandering mind had caused her performance to deteriorate slightly a few times. Everyone saw it, but they were patient with her because they understood – or they thought they did. They might think that her deterioration was because of recent events, of the threatening letters and such. It wasn't though.

Rachel had expected Quinn to burst through the set, grab her in the middle of shooting and pull her aside and ask her things and kiss her and just let her  _feel_  things that only Quinn could make her feel. She knew it was a little bit dramatic with the entire scene plotted out in her mind, but she was nothing if not dramatic. And Quinn's reaction certainly  _wasn't_  dramatic. It was far from the fantasy she'd cooked up in her mind.

Quinn just had that expressionless face on all the goddamn time and it was slowly growing on Rachel's nerves. Why wasn't she doing anything? She saw the photos, the memories and their goddamn special cushions in her trailer! There was no way she didn't. So she should really just react – even just a  _little_  bit.

But she didn't.

All she did was stand there with her hands behind her back and watch her shooting or the crew walking around, doing their job. Then she would disappear, only to reappear shortly after.

Rachel had tried to walk away and approached the blonde, but her job wouldn't allow her to. It was a busy day and she just couldn't find it in her to snap at Artie to give her a short break to let her go find Quinn. Also, almost everyone in the security team was sweating and they had this  _look_  on their faces as if something was happening. Puck and Sam were there the entire time, being a little too protective and she found it so weird.

It was a little past four when Artie finally called it and let them go home. She smiled at Artie, Kitty and all her co-stars with promises to see them tomorrow before trudging towards her trailer with Kurt next to her, Puck and Sam following close behind. She could hear them talking to each other quietly. Halfway to her trailer, the walkie-talkie crackled and Quinn's voice came through.

"It's off. Everyone's safe."

She stopped in her tracks and slowly she turned around to look at them. Kurt's eyes were wide, nearly bulging out of their sockets as he gulped. They were hiding something from her. She knew she was correct, judging by the panicked looks on their faces.

* * *

Quinn heard beeping noises the moment she stepped into the trailer and was immediately alarmed. She silently latched the door closed behind her and walked to the middle of the trailer, her heavy breathing audible in the quiet space. Her eyes swept the room as she searched for the origin of the noise.

She could see photos lined up on the dressing table – photos of her and Rachel. Her brows furrowed a little as she gulped and tried to ignore them. Her eyes landed on the small sofa where two bright blue and green cushions were arranged on it. The pillows had a smiley face pattern on them and her eyes widened a little. Why hadn't Rachel throw them away? She finally paid her attention to the details of the room and a small gasp escaped her lips as she realized something.

There was  _Quinn-and-Rachel_  stuff all over the room. The cushions, the photos. The stupid puzzle still missing a piece hung on the wall. All these were memories of their time together. The cushions were gifts to Rachel on their first date. The puzzle was something they would work on together when they found free time. Her throat went dry when she saw an enlarged photo, framed in a simple golden frame on the table.

It was the same photo she had in her wallet.

She took it with shivering hands and stared at it for the longest two minutes ever. The crescendo sounds of beeping interrupted her thoughts and she quickly went back to reality. She put down the frame absentmindedly and searched the trailer once more.

Her heart stopped for a second when she finally found the origin of the noise. Hidden behind the plushy cushions was a ticking time bomb with – fortunately – seven hours left until the explosion. Her breath was harsh and her body was shaking as she dialed the Bomb Defusing Team on her phone and told them the situation.

"Be discreet when you come. We don't want to alert anyone on set," she said before she hung up and she instantly grabbed her walkie-talkie and found Sam's line. "Sam, Puck, where are you?"

It was a couple of seconds before Sam answered, "Where we were before. She's talking with the wheelchair dude."

"Keep her  _away_  from her trailer. For as long as you can. Better yet, don't let her go back to her trailer for next seven hours. I really need your help on this. Tell Artie to keep her as busy as he can. And if she snap at him, tell him to ignore her because that's who she is. I'll talk to you soon."

Her steps were hurried as she made her way towards Azimio, who was talking to Mike. She tapped him on his shoulder and explained the whole situation to him. She asked him to alert the team and delay Rachel as long as he possibly could. She also had to reassure him more than five times that everything was going to be okay before she finally snapped and yelled at him to just go and alert the team.

She went back to the trailer and went inside, her footsteps loud as she paced the room, glancing at the bomb one too many times. As each minute passed, her heart skipped. She was sure that she would have a heart attack if this went on any longer.

She released a breath she didn't know she'd been holding when her phone rang, finally announcing the arrival of the bomb team. She helped them make a discrete entrance through the back and quickly led them towards the trailer with their equipment in tow. She showed them the bomb and one of them let out a whistle.

Her eyes snapped to him as he had a nervous smile on his face as he brushed his hair back. He had a lean body and was really good looking- for a man. But she didn't care. She wanted to know about the bomb.

"This is going to take a long time," he finally answered, laying down his equipment kit. He quickly opened it and laid his tools out on the floor. "Whoever made it is a professional. This bomb is army-level, used for sophisticated and well-thought out extermination plans. These plans are to eradicate enemies, and this bomb is enough to kill everyone on site."

"How about the set?"

He laughed nervously, shaking his head as he picked up a screwdriver and unscrewed the lid.

She took a deep breath. "Can you disable it before it goes off?"

He nodded. "Yeah, I can. As long as it doesn't have a safety system, which can complicate things a  _lot_  more." He took off the lid and laughed again. "Speak of the devil," he whispered. "Boy, this thing is a beauty and yet so dangerous."

"It doesn't look beautiful to me," Quinn quipped. "Now what?"

"Two safety systems," he said with dread in his voice as he quickly got to work. His colleagues stood around him to help him out if needed and offer advice. When he finally looked up and saw her pale face, he smiled a little. "It's all going to be okay, Agent Fabray. There's always a first time for everything and I always like a challenge."

"Well, I don't!" Quinn snapped and ran her hand through her hair. "If you don't fix it in sev – oh correction, six hours and thirty minutes – everyone will die!"

"Evacuate them," he said easily.

"I  _can't_. This is incredibly appalling and terrifying and I don't want to scare the crew. Rachel might even have a heart attack!" Quinn replied, ignoring her use of Rachel's name.

The man, however, didn't miss anything and there was a smirk tugging on his lips. "Okay," he said. "I will defuse this baby. I promise. Quinn – do you mind if I call you Quinn? – I think you're putting a little too much pressure on yourself here. Go get some coffee, take a walk and then come back."

"Don't worry, Agent Fabray. Sebastian is great at his job. He's one of the best in our department. He'll fix it," one of his colleagues boasted and smiled reassuringly at her. She could still see the fear in his eyes, but who wouldn't be afraid right now. The defuse guy – Sebastian – obviously.

Quinn groaned loudly and stormed out the trailer. She grabbed a guy with headphones and a cap and asked him where she could get coffee. He gave her directions to the tent where all the supplements were located. She thanked him, giving him a reassuring smile even though he knew nothing about what was going on right now before heading off to get some caffeine.

She poured herself a cup of scalding hot coffee and drank it straight from the cup without adding sugar or creamer. She loved her coffee that way. When she was done, she threw the paper cup into the dustbin and headed to the building where Rachel was filming.

Sam and Puck were sitting a few feet behind Artie, watching Rachel film. She couldn't help but smile a little to see Rachel completely in character and so natural while acting. This was her world, her destiny. Quinn never had any doubt about that. Then she remembered the current situation and her smile melted off her face. She tapped Puck on the shoulder and he turned around.

"Quinn," he said immediately and asked, "What is going on? Why do we need to delay her?"

She glanced at Rachel over his shoulder before looking back to him. "Do not panic." She gulped and said, "There's a time bomb in her trailer." Sam and Puck's faces instantly turned from being curious to completely alarmed. "I've called the bomb team and they're defusing it. The guy – as annoyingly confident as he is – said that he will defuse it on time. Let's just keep our fingers crossed."

"What if he can't?" Sam asked the inevitable question.

Her breath shuddered as she inhaled. "Here's the plan, and you guys have to do  _exactly_  as I say, okay?" They nodded. "If he can't defuse it – I will tell you if he can't - I want you to bring her to one of the cars and get out of here. She is your priority right now. If the others manage to rush out before it explodes, good for them. But I don't want you to worry about them. I want you to just keep an eye on her and keep her safe. Do you understand me?"

"What about you?"

She paused and her hands fell, slapping her thighs soundly. "I'm staying."

There was pause in the air around them as the two men stared at her and she just stared back blankly. "You mean you're going to come to us if you're really sure that it's going to explode, right?"

She just looked back and sighed. "You know I don't mean that," she finally whispered.

There was a pained expression on Puck's face and Sam's was just incredulous. "No!" Puck nearly shouted after a few moments of tense silence. Quinn's eyes widened and she quickly shushed him, grabbing his arm. "If that son of a bitch can't fucking defuse the bomb, you're not staying. I know you're kind of suicidal but I won't let you kill yourself like that!"

"It's not for you to decide!" Quinn quickly argued. "I don't care if you like it or not, okay? I'm the head of the team and I make the decisions. If that happens, you're going to take Rachel out of here. And you're going to catch that bastard for me." She fought the voice in her head that was telling her it was Puck who was doing all of this. "Promise me, both of you."

Sam stared at her before nodding solemnly. He understood the severity of the situation and he knew Quinn was just doing her job: to protect Rachel. Puck took longer to agree. He was huffing the whole time but she just smiled at them gratefully before hastily leaving them to find Azimio. She told him the same plan. She asked him to save himself and the team if things went bad. He agreed without argument.

The bomb team was putting on protective suits when she arrived back at the trailer, but she couldn't see Sebastian with the group. "Where is Sebastian?" she asked.

"Inside. Working on the bomb."

She went inside and saw Sebastian kneeling on the floor, concentrating on the bomb. He wasn't wearing a suit. She narrowed her eyes and turned around to ask his colleague.

"Why isn't he in a suit?" she whispered.

The guy smirked. "He's been messing with this stuff since he joined the academy. He's like anti-radioactive or something now. We've tried to get him to suit up though. And he said he loves the challenge."

She frowned and spun around to face the weird creature. She approached him, settling down next to him sitting Indian style, and watched him working on the wires. He glanced at her swiftly before going back to work.

"Aren't you afraid? I might make it accidentally explode if I do something wrong," he teased.

She rolled her eyes. "If you  _do_  do something wrong, I will chase you from the beginning of heaven to the end of hell and torture you."

He laughed and shrugged. "With a beautiful lady like you, I'd be happy to."

"So have you got the safety systems down yet, or what?" she asked, watching his powerful hands fiddling with the tools and the wires, afraid that one second later it would go off because of a simple mishap.

He shook his head and let out a hissing breath. "Sorry, lady, but no. I'm halfway done with the first one, though. It's way more complicated than I thought it was."

"Am I supposed to relieved or scared of that statement?"

"It's your choice."

"You know," she began, narrowing her eyes at him as she watched him skeptically. "You're awfully relaxed for someone who's defusing a bomb. Everyone's life on set is literally in your hands right now. Aren't you even a little afraid?"

"If I let fear or anxiety or nerves get to me, I'd be dead right now. I tend to humor myself and stay calm and just think positive whenever I'm working. It helps. I feel more confident like that." He smiled. "You should try that sometimes. I can see you're really uptight."

She scoffed and sat back, leaning on her palms. "You don't know the first thing about me."

"Oh, you'd be surprised." He grabbed a pair of pliers from the kit. "I've met people like you. I've been one myself. You went through an emotional trauma god-knows-how-long ago and then you began closing off, building walls around yourself like Fort Knox and not letting a single person in. You became snarky and private and – excuse me – lonely and then you slowly got used to it."

She clenched her jaw and her fingers dug into the floorboards. She settled her steely gaze on him, voting to not say anything. It was slightly terrifying that Sebastian was accurate on everything, to be honest. No one could really get all the predictions correct, not even Santana. So when a stranger like this weirdo was able to guess things nobody normally could, it spooked her out.

"Look, whatever I said just now was totally just my guess. There's nothing concrete until you say so. I hope I didn't offend you though. I just like a challenge and you sort of challenged me just now," Sebastian finally said, still focused on the bomb. "It's actually nice that you decided to sit down here and talk to me. My colleagues were always too afraid of wavering my focus even though I've assured them that it won't."

She smirked and lifted her shoulders in a shrug. "I always love a challenge," she croaked.

He laughed in response and nodded as if he was approving her. "Great. So do you wanna go and grab some drinks once this is done?"

She stared at him with her mouth wide open. "Are you asking me out on a date?"

He grinned. "I'm gay." Then a pause. Then he corrected, "Well, not actually gay. I'm bi. So I swing both ways. And yes, I'm asking you out on a date."

She held up her hands, palms outward. "I don't swing both ways. I don't even play on the hetero team."

He raised his eyebrow and nodded, drawling, "Okay. How about as friends? I have a feeling that we would be great friends."

She pretended to consider his offer and then with a grin, she nodded. "I  _know_  it's a bad one but I have a feeling that we would be great friends too."

He laughed and then after a few minutes, he added, "If we get out of this shit, of course."

* * *

"How are things?" That was always the first thing Sam asked whenever she came to check on them. And she would always provide the similar grave shake of her head silently. And then both men would have that crestfallen look on their faces and she would have that longing feeling to get those looks of their faces.

She would always stand a few yards behind them, arms folded, as she watched the filming go down. She was lucky that they were rolling every time she came because she wasn't sure what she was supposed to say to Rachel. The brunette was in her element and Quinn could feel the pride swell in her heart whenever she watched her act. She had to admit the plot and dialogue were pretty good for something that she was sure the production team wasn't familiar with.

It took two hours for Sebastian to disable the two safety systems and begin to really defuse the bomb. He kept clucking his tongue and she kept panicking because clucking tongues meant that there was something he wasn't pleased with. But then he would always send her a reassuring smile after, as if he could sense her anxiety.

He kept attempting conversation with her; asking her age, where she was from and other kinds of casual stuff. He never really asked her about the really personal details in her life, such as what kind of trauma she'd had to make her so closed off from others. It was as if he knew better than to ask. She would ask him the same stuff and she found out that he was from Dallas and was once in an acapella group and was two years older than she was. She asked him to sing for her and he sang her a really impressive line of Kelly Clarkson's  _Dark Side_  to her.

"Can you sing?" he asked her.

She let out a chuckle and shrugged. "I'm not like, a really good singer. But I sing some," she revealed, winking at him.

He looked at her with a raised eyebrow. "Well, go for it," he said, extending one hand in a gesture for her to sing.

She laughed and shook her head. "Ha! No. I haven't sung in like…four years."  _Ever since she left_ , her subconscious reminded her and she quickly shushed it. "I'm pretty sure I couldn't sing a phrase for the life of me."

"You don't know if you don't try," he said with a grin. "Come on! I've sung for you! How about a repayment?"

"No," she stated adamantly.

"Sing."

"No."

"Why the hell not?"

She tensed slightly and her nails dug into the inside of her thigh to prevent herself from fleeing the room. "Reasons," she stated tightly, giving him a warning look.

He was silent for a moment as he fiddled with the bomb. Although he couldn't really see her, he could hear it in her voice. It was something that was personal to her. Then he finally nodded. "Okay." He laid down a tool and called, "Hunter!"

The one she had spoken to earlier about Sebastian's weirdness came in and stared at Sebastian curiously. Sebastian quickly rattled off the other tools he needed and asked about getting a glass of water. Hunter nodded and rushed out to grab the tools, coming back with them along with a bottle of water.

"Don't kill us, Smythe," he muttered before heading out again.

"Don't pressure me, Clarington." Sebastian noticed Quinn's amused look and smiled. "He's my boss, actually. Not like… _the_  boss since we work for the government. His position in the department is higher than me, I mean."

"Then why isn't he doing this?"

"Because he didn't get super intensive training like I did." He paused to check on his work so far and then continued, "Mind you, I was a very dangerous kid ever since I watched those shows about weapons and shit on  _The Discovery Channel_. I bought chemicals and other lame stuff and made tiny explosives myself. I even got suspended once for pranking a friend with one."

"Oh jeez, I'm glad I wasn't that friend."

He chuckled. "My mom was crazy worried about my weird fascination and tried to send me to a therapist, but it's just my interest, you know. My dad saw the potential in me and sent me to the Academy once I graduated high school. From there, I learned about bombs and how to make them and defuse them. Hunter, however, joined after he was relieved from the army. I was offered his position once, but I refused. I don't want to just stand there and watch my people work and do nothing. I want to see and move my hands and feel accomplished when I get a bomb defused."

"Weirdly, I understand what you're talking about."

He chortled. "You're fun," he commented.

She grinned and shrugged. "I'm not always uptight."

"I can see that…" His voice drifted off. Then he lost his smile and picked a pair of sharp pliers. "Okay, um, I think we're nearly done."

She was immediately alarmed and quickly scooted towards him, watching him pick at the wires and switches. "Make good choices," she said weakly.

He merely smiled. She watched him pick a few wires apart, finally revealing a black one, standing out alone and dangerous. She let out a shuddering breath as she watched him move his hand surely and cut it. She squeezed her eyes shut, waiting for the boom.

It never came.

She blinked her eyes open to see Sebastian's grinning face up close and her jaw dropped. She smacked his arm and scrambled to her feet. He barked a laugh and stood up, wiping the sweat off his forehead with the back of his arm, his grin unwavering as she glared at him. He shook his head and bent down to assemble the tools into his kit and shut the lid. He called for Hunter again and pointed at the terrifying object on the sofa. They muttered a few things before Hunter walked out again with the bomb.

She huffed at Sebastian. "Ass," she said.

"You're too adorable for words," he teased as he held back his laughter. "I thought you were from the army! You're supposed to be fearless!"

"Whoever told you that army retirees are supposed to be fearless and not afraid of bombs, tell that asshole that they are totally wrong," she grumbled under her breath and took a look at her watch. 4:13 p.m. She grabbed her walkie-talkie from her back pocket and said, "It's off. Everyone's safe."

She clicked the line off without waiting for a reply and then stepped close to Sebastian to smack him on the chest again. "You jerk," she complained. "I thought I was going to die just now!"

"Come on, Quinn. Give me a chance. I'm confident in my job," he stated with a shrug and a nonchalant look on his face. "Anyway, how about that drink?"

She shook her head. "I think you've chosen the wrong profession. Your recklessness terrifies me." She looked around her and back to him. "I can't get drinks with you now or any sooner. I do have a job to do. I'll call you if I have the time."

He grinned slyly and waggled his brows at her. "Quinn Fabray, are you asking for my number?" he teased.

She stared at him with a bored look. "Keep that up and I'll make sure you won't have any children."

"Okay, okay," he relented. "Give me  _your_  number. I'll leave you a missed call." She rattled off her number and he quickly punched it in and called it. Her phone rang and he disconnected it. "So now you have my number, don't keep me hanging. Or I'll get bored and find another 'friend'."

"I thought I said I don't play on your team."

"Won't keep me from trying."

She hesitated and then said, "My heart belongs to someone else." She was so into the conversation that she didn't hear the footsteps behind her and the tiny brunette stopping at the doorway as she heard her words. "So yeah, even if I did play on your team, you wouldn't have a chance."

Sebastian smiled softly and looked around him, his gaze lingering on the photos before he turned back to her. "I can see that. I still want to be your friend. You're interesting and strange. I like interesting and strange people."

"Is that supposed to be a compliment?" she asked with an incredulous look.

He lifted his shoulders in a shrug and bent down to pick up his tool kit. He sidestepped Quinn and glanced at her over his shoulder. "It depends on what you choose to think of it," he exclaimed before sidling past Rachel out the trailer.

Quinn, still unaware of her ex-girlfriend's presence, looked down at her shoes with her hands on her hips. She thought back on her encounter with Sebastian and their ongoing conversation for the past few hours and let out an amused chuckle. She was sort of glad that she met him. He seemed to be the only person who could make her smile now, even if she'd only known him for no more than six hours, and she still wasn't sure if he was a stalker or just as he said, a skillful man on the bomb team.

"Do you know him?"

She started and her eyes widened. She spun on her heels at lightning speed to see Rachel standing  _directly_  behind her. She released a tiny gasp and took a step back. The first thing she thought was how the fuck could she let her guard down and not hear Rachel come in? She wanted to smack herself for being so careless. Then she thought,  _oh shit did she hear our conversation?_

Her inability to provide an answer prodded Rachel to repeat her question. "Do you know him, Quinn?"

Quinn's eyes met hers and she was surprised to see jealousy mingling behind the curiosity and…anger? Wait, why was she angry? "Um…I just met him today."

Rachel raised her brows and Quinn could immediately see the fake innocence displayed on her face as she stared at the blonde. Quinn frowned. "Really? I would've thought you had known each other for a long time, cause you seem to be really familiar with each other."

"Rach – Miss Berry," she caught herself, "what are you trying to say?"

"How did you meet him?" Rachel asked.

"Why do you care?" Quinn snapped back, annoyed with Rachel's current behavior.

The brunette smiled, in a non-humorous and you-are-in-deep-shit way. "Why do I care?" she enunciated. "I had a bomb in my trailer for the last six hours!" she finally said – or rather, yelled. Quinn sucked in a sharp breath. "I didn't know about it until I heard you talking to Puck and Sam through the walkie-talkie. Then I came here to find my ex-girlfriend  _flirting_  with a mysterious guy in my trailer as if nothing happened! Now you're asking me why do I care?"

The bodyguard sidled past Rachel and hastily shut the door before turning back around to face Rachel. "I didn't want to waver your focus on your job," she explained. "I understand why you're upset that I kept this from you. It's solved now. You're safe. That's all that matters. But I don't understand why you're so angry with me and Sebastian!"

Rachel let out a dry laugh and threw her hands up in the air, beginning to pace the floor. "Yes, of course, he's  _Sebastian_  and I'm  _Miss Berry_ ," she grumbled audibly. "And he was flirting with you. In my trailer, no less. How dare he disrespect me like that?"

"Stop!" Quinn barked and Rachel stopped in her tracks and looked up at Quinn with tearful eyes. Quinn couldn't help but feel slightly pleased at Rachel's jealousy over Sebastian, though she still thought that Rachel was being irrational. "You're not making any sense."

"What part of this doesn't make any sense?" Rachel snapped. "That guy flirted with you! And I was there to witness it!"

"So what?"

"So I'm jealous!" Rachel finally exclaimed, her voice echoed in her trailer. Quinn was shocked at her tone. Rachel chuckled dryly and covered part of her face with her palm. "I'm jealous because how come he's allowed to talk to you like that and I'm not? How come he's  _Sebastian_  and I'm  _Miss Berry_? You said you met him  _today_. You've known me for eight years!"

Quinn watched the tears slid down Rachel's cheeks, leaving their trail in crooked paths. She ached to reach out and wipe them away and embrace her and just hold her. However, she couldn't let herself lose control. Her breath shuddered and she folded her arms in a protective stance, hardening her features.

"You don't get to be jealous," she said.  _Bullshit_. She was jealous whenever she saw the brunette with Finn Hudson. She just never said it out loud. "And even if he was flirting with me, I didn't reciprocate his advances. I made my point clear to him that I would never be attracted to him. So you can rest assured. And he's my friend, so I'm calling him by his given name. You may have been my girlfriend before but not anymore. You're my employer, so I should address you as such."

"Why?" Rachel asked desperately. "Why are you making this so hard on me? Why are you doing this to me?"

"I'm not doing anything to you, Miss Berry. I'm doing my job and I'm trying to protect you. I apologize for keeping information about the bomb from you but that's all I'm going to apologize for. You can't control who I'm friends with."

She was about to walk out when Rachel said in that tired tone of hers, "God, don't you see it, Quinn?" The actress fell onto the sofa and hugged one of the cushions to her chest. "I'm  _still_  very much in love with you."


	7. broken

Quinn paused at the door, her grip tight on the knob, her eyes squeezed shut as she literally lost her breath; her entire system stopped functioning for one second. She could feel Rachel's eyes burning into her side, yearning for her to turn back and talk to her. She clenched her jaw and opened her eyes again.

She spun on her heels to face Rachel, crossing her arms protectively over her chest. She didn't say anything; she just stood there and entered a staring contest with Rachel. Rachel fidgeted with her fingers and finally gave up, looking down at the floor, her head hung low. Quinn nodded and her lips formed a thin line. She looked around her, her eyes settling on  _that_  particular photo; the one Rachel kept framed in her trailer and the one she carried with her always _._

"What else am I looking for? Of course you'd say that. You're always the unfair one. You're always the tipping point. You're always the one who starts things. You're always the one who wants to win. You're always the one who won't give someone a break," she mumbled, her voice growing louder with each word.

Rachel frowned and looked up. "Wha-"

"Imagine someone you love walking out the door, giving you the lamest excuse of the century and not even letting you explain or apologize," Quinn interrupted, clearly on a roll and not giving a chance to Rachel to say something. "I've  _tried_ , Rachel. Don't you think that I've tried to contact you? But no, there you go, cutting all contact by changing your goddamn number and moving and telling  _everyone_  to not tell me where you are. Well, thank you very much for that, Rachel, for leaving a deeper scar and allowing me to get on that damn plane to risk dying."

"Quinn," Rachel called.

The blonde started, flailing her arms in the air as she rattled off. "Then I just  _had_  to be so pathetic to write you letters!" She laughed dryly. "I don't even know why I am so hung up on you! I mean, are you worth it? I don't even know anymore. I've thrown myself into situations to just  _die_  because I feel so painful every fucking day. I've thrown myself in front of a tank. I've stayed with a ticking time bomb on site. I got stabbed just a few millimeters away from my heart with a knife. I got into a plane crash! And you know what? I'm still alive! Then I come back and end up with this job! And I have to see you again!"

"Quinn."

"And then you have to act like everything's going to be fine and you'll try to talk to me and try to get friendly with me. It's like you're oblivious to my body language or something because it is  _so obvious_  that I do not want to get friendly and throw myself into that helpless situation where I won't be able to tear myself away from you  _again_  – just like how I was when we were dating." Quinn stopped and took a deep breath. "Then I realized I've always been in this helpless situation because  _today_ , I was willing to  _die_  to keep you alive!"

"Quinn, plea-" Rachel tried again.

Quinn finally stopped and turned to face Rachel. " _Stop_  torturing me, Rachel!" she pleaded, her voice dripping with desperation. Her eyes were welling up with tears. "I'm not the Quinn I was before. You're not the Rachel I knew before. Don't tell me you love me when you so obviously don't mean it. I can't handle it anymore. I can't handle  _you_  anymore. So let's just get on with our lives. You go with your boy toy and your famous life while I try to get this asshole that's been stalking you. When we're done, we'll get out of each other's lives and not see one another again."

She made her way to the door but then Rachel shouted, " _Quinn Fabray, stop right there_!" Quinn took a deep breath and turned her head to see Rachel on her feet with her hands clenched by her sides, fuming. "Sit. Down." She pointed at the sofa. "And don't even think of leaving because I will go out there and yell at you for all I care. Don't challenge me."

Quinn cursed under her breath and went to sit down. She tilted her head to stare at Rachel while the other woman was glaring at her. "Don't glare at me. It won't work," she said quietly, her voice devoid of rage.

There was knock on the door and Puck's voice came through. "Quinn? Is everything okay in there?"

Quinn sighed tiredly and shook her head even if Puck couldn't see it. "No, everything's not okay. But don't worry. We just have to…settle something."

There was silence for a while before Puck said, "Okay."

Quinn pursed her lips and looked up at Rachel again, who was no longer glaring at her but just staring. "Talk, then."

"You have to promise you won't cut me off," Rachel said softly.

The bodyguard shook her head and looked down at her hands hanging by her legs. "I can't promise that." It was weird, really. Four years ago, she would have promised  _anything_  just to make Rachel happy. She could hear Rachel sigh. Quinn took a deep readying breath and lifted her eyes to meet with Rachel's.

She could hear Rachel sigh. Quinn took a deep readying breath and lifted her eyes to meet with Rachel's.

"Do you want to talk or do you want to keep me sitting here like a stupid human being that I apparently am?" Quinn deadpanned.

"That didn't shift anything in Quinn. She still had that tired look on her face and if Rachel wasn't mistaken, it had just grown more tired. "You have to believe me, Quinn.  _I love you_ ," she repeated. Quinn still didn't move and there was literally  _nothing_. "Quinn,  _please_."

A moment of silence hung in the air between them before Quinn's lips curved into a tight and hopeless smile. She shrugged. "You love me. I get it. Can I go now?" she asked softly.

Rachel groaned and stomped her foot. "You get it but you  _don't_  believe it!"

"There's nothing to believe."

"I love you!" Rachel proclaimed.

"I know."

"But do you believe it? Now?" Rachel leaned down to level her gaze with Quinn's.

Quinn looked toward the door longingly, but it was short lived, because Rachel cupped her cheeks firmly with her hands and turned her eyes back to her. She raised her brow questioningly and Quinn released a sigh through her nose.

" _No_ ," she whispered.

* * *

She was on a nice date in her favorite restaurant with Brittany when her phone buzzed in her clutch. She ignored it for the first time, thinking that nobody could disturb this rare opportunity to spend some time with her girlfriend. But then it rang for the second time. And third and fourth.

Santana groaned and literally wrangled her phone out. Her frown deepened when she saw Sam's name blinking on her screen. "What the  _fuck_  do you want, Evans?" she seethed quietly and then threw a smile at Brittany before turning away. "I am on a date with Brittany. Do you know how hard it is for me to find time to even hang out with her?"

"Look, you can date her all you want after you teach me how to solve this," Sam said. There was a hint of desperation hanging from his voice. "Seriously, I can't handle this; even Puck can't handle this!"

"Handle  _what_?" Santana urged.

"Quinn."

"Why? What's wrong with her?" Santana asked, though she already knew what was wrong with her. Rachel. "Did Berry do something?"

" _Exactly_! I don't even know what she did to make Quinn so angry. I'm outside the pool house now but it's  _chaos_  inside. She's already broke two vases and even tried to throw the freaking armchair out. Puck is trying to control her now, but you need to help me. _"_

"How can you not know what happened? You were there with her!"

Sam sighed. "After the bomb team defused the bomb, they had a long talk – I don't even know if you could call it talking with all the yelling and shit they did– and when we came back, Quinn exploded."

Santana tensed and threw a glance at Brittany, who was watching curiously. "Hold up." Sam paused in his rant. "Did you say bomb?" Her voice was dark and quiet; the atmosphere turned eerie.

She could literally hear him gulp before he squeaked uncertainly, "Yeah?"

She clenched her jaw and her grip on the phone tightened. It was a surprise that it didn't crack under her fingers. "Okay, I am done with this bullshit. Tell Hummel I'm taking the first flight to New York I can get, so he better prepare a room for us. Get Quinn sedated or something. Knock her out. Punch her. I don't care. I'm going there and I'm going to give her motherfucking smackdown."

"Santana, I don't think that's a good idea," Sam whispered harshly.

"I don't care if you think it's a good idea, Evans. It is a goddamn good idea to me. Splendid, even," she snapped and hung up. She stuffed her phone into her clutch and stood up, offering her girlfriend her hand. "Come on, Britts, we're going to New York."

Brittany squealed in excitement.

* * *

Quinn woke with a start; sitting upright and heaving harshly. Air came in and out of her lungs quickly as she tried to get a hold of herself. She felt like she had been hit by a freaking truck. She grunted and supported her head with her hand, her fingers tangled through her hair. Events from yesterday flashed through her mind and she groaned again, cursing Rachel under her breath.

She pulled herself out of bed and stared at the clock on her bedside table. "Fantastic. It's not even five. What the hell am I supposed to do?" she muttered to herself and padded outside her room to see Sam and Puck snoring like pigs outside. "Idiots."

She made a beeline towards the kitchen and grabbed some Advil from one of the cabinets swallowing them down with a glass of water. She leaned back against the edge of the island as she allowed the medication to settle in. She felt the effects kicking in when her headache began to dissipate. She washed the glass and put it back to the rack before going back into her bedroom and collapsing on her bed.

She didn't even remember how she passed out yesterday.

 _Probably from overreacting like an idiot_ , her inner voice scolded.

She groaned and ignored it, squeezing her eyes shut.

 _You_ _ **wanted**_ _to believe her. Why didn't you believe her? It wouldn't cause you so much pain,_ her inner voice said again.

Quinn's eyes snapped open and she stared at the ceiling. Why? Because believing in Rachel would cost her more pain in the future.

_How can you be so sure that she doesn't love you?_

_You're seriously going to let this opportunity pass you by? She's practically begging for you to go back to her and live your happily ever after._

_Quinn,_ _**come on.** _

"Jesus Christ shut up!" she exclaimed. "Leave me the fuck alone for fuck's sake." She dragged a pillow over her face and screamed all she had into it. She screamed again and again for ten minutes straight before she ran out of breath. She was still sobbing when she dragged the pillow off her face and threw to some part of the room

 _You freaking masochist_.

She sobbed and sobbed. "I know."

* * *

"Quinn Fabray, wake the fuck up!"

She jolted, her eyes opening only to see Santana's face looming over her. She chuckled and shook her head. "I'm hallucinating. Satan's spawn isn't here." She closed her eyes, but found herself being shaken again.

"Do I look like a fucking hallucination to you? Wake up! We gotz to talk before you go and protect her bloody highness again.  _Wake up_." Santana didn't cease shaking Quinn. She shook her harder instead.

"San, why are you shaking Quinn?"

Quinn snapped her eyes open and her gaze went straight to the door where Brittany was standing. She looked from the taller blonde to the Latina and repeated the movement again before sitting up straight.

"You brought Brittany?" she hissed.

Santana glared back. "Yeah, I brought Brittany. But that's the least of your concern right now. We – I mean us both – have to talk. More like you listen to me bitching even though I am going to be extremely right. Now get out of the fucking bed. It's fucking six in the morning."

"Yeah, exactly. It's fucking  _six_ in the goddamn morning. I'm super tired so why don't you leave me the fuck alone and go play with whatever toys you have with Brittany," she ranted and intended to lie back down but Santana pulled her covers away. "Santana!"

"I came here on the earliest flight I could get to talk to you. You're lucky I'm the one handling your file, or you could kiss your paycheck fucking goodbye. You and I. Need. To. Talk," the Latina enunciated each word aggressively.

They glowered at each other for awhile, not backing down. And then someone cleared their throat from the door. Sam and Puck suddenly joined Brittany and Quinn groaned, surrendering. She swung her legs off the bed and pulled Santana out the door, excusing themselves from the trio and exited to the yard outside.

Quinn let go of Santana's hand and turned around, crossing her arms. "This better be good."

Without waiting for another second to go by, Santana launched into her rant. "So imagine my anger when I get a lovely call from Sam Evans last night literally begging me to help solve this problem of a blondie throwing a freaking tantrum when they came back from their job." She eyed Quinn intensely before continuing, "And then he went on to tell me that there was a bomb on set yesterday, and then you had a nice long talk with the hobbit, which I don't doubt resulted in you throwing that tantrum."

"What's your point?"

"First question, why didn't you tell me there was a  _bomb_?" Santana emphasized, her fake smile wiped off her face, replaced with a scowl. "A bomb, Q! You could've died!"

"I didn't," Quinn said in nonchalance.

Santana kept her eyes on the blonde for a long time, her calm composure unwavering. She released a breath through her nose and swallowed. This wasn't the Quinn she knew. This was a shell. And Quinn had _many shells_. Santana thought she had seen them all. Apparently, she hadn't.

Apparently, she hadn't.

"Quinn, come on," she said softly. "What is going on in your head?"

"Nothing is going on in my head," Quinn answered automatically.

"Okay, we'll talk about that later," she stressed. "Let's talk business first. Did you ever intend to tell me about the bomb?"

"Sorry to disappoint you, but you weren't exactly the first to come to my mind when I saw a ticking time bomb in my employer's trailer. And you also weren't the one I thought of when I realized that I didn't lose my life to a bomb," the blonde replied coldly.

Santana nodded. "But did you intend to tell me? Regardless when."

There was a pause before Quinn said, "Yes. You're the one who put me here after all, so of course I have to tell you." There was an unmistakable tone of displeasure and something near hatred, in Quinn's voice.

"Yeah, okay. I suppose you didn't know that I have to write a report about you when you're done with this bullshit, did you? How am I supposed to write a nice report about you when you're behaving like an asshole, huh? Tell me."

"I don't really care about my report. I'm pretty sure this experience has left a pretty dark impression on me and I won't ever want to be a bodyguard again."

"Quinn, I'm serious!" Santana finally lost it and yelled.

"So am I," Quinn retorted calmly. "How you thought this was a good idea is beyond me, Santana. But I will do my job until the end and I'll be damned if I don't find out who this asshole is that's trying to kill  _her_." Like lightning, she stepped right in front of Santana and jabbed a finger in her face. "However, Santana, do not expect me to trust you after this. You lied to me – don't even try to deny it. You knew from the beginning that it was her and you still made me do this. What kind of friend does that?"

"A friend who cares about you," Santana returned calmly.

A manic grin stretched out on Quinn's face and she released a scoff. She nodded, throwing her arms in the air and slowly took steps back. "Okay," she said before turning around and storming back into the house, skirting past the trio who had been watching them and slamming the door to her room shut.

The Latina stood there, shocked. She was snapped out of her trance when Brittany stepped in front of her and touched her cheek. She looked up to see her girlfriend's worried blue eyes roaming her face.

"Are you okay, San?"

Santana blinked and stared blankly at her girlfriend before nodding, grasping Brittany's hands reassuringly before turning to Sam and Puck. "What. The hell. Happened?" she asked. "You were supposed to help her. This doesn't seem to be helping her."

"We helped her with bodyguard duties, Santana. Her problems with Rachel have nothing to do with us," Puck replied.

She narrowed her eyes at him. The things about Puck Quinn told her yesterday morning echoed in her mind and she couldn't help but feel a little suspicious. However, she decided to think about this matter later.

"Like hell it isn't," she snapped. "She's your friend, Puckerman! One of our best friends, and do I have to remind you that we all agreed we would take care of her after she boarded that first flight to war? Do I?" Her anger toned down a tiny bit when both of them had the decency to look guilty. "What happened?" she asked again.

Sam breathed before starting, "After the bomb team left, Rachel was left alone in her trailer with Quinn. We were standing pretty far away because we were talking to Hunter Clarington, the supervisor of the bomb team. Then we heard yelling and saw Quinn closing the door and then more yelling. We couldn't actually hear what they were yelling about because we were on the other side of the door. And then Quinn came out like, twenty minutes later with the coldest expression I've ever seen on her face, and it was  _creepy_  the whole time we were coming back. And then she started destroying stuff when we arrived here."

"That midget must've said something," Santana murmured and tapped her forefinger against her temple. "What time is it?"

"Ugh, Quinn just left," Puck muttered, looking over his shoulder at the open front door. "We should go after her."

Santana groaned and grabbed Brittany's hand. "I'm so sorry, babe. I didn't know it was going to be such a mess," she apologized as they followed Quinn, who was walking in really fast strides in front of them.

Brittany smiled and squeezed Santana's hand. "It's okay. I'm glad that I could see Quinn again. She seems really sad," she said, her brows furrowed as she frowned.

"She is."

* * *

Fifteen minutes after they returned home from set, Kurt decided that hiring a bodyguard from the army may have been the worst idea he'd ever had. Rachel was shutting herself away from everyone. Even  _him_. And they were  _best_  buddies.

She'd proceeded to lock herself in her bedroom the minute they stepped foot into the mansion. Finn was sent home, despite his protests. Kurt tried to talk to his best friend but she wouldn't budge. He would've suspected she'd fainted or died if it wasn't for the sobs that kept echoing out of the room.

He'd sat outside the door for more than an hour playing Temple Run on his phone, waiting for Rachel to open the door. Then his phone just  _had_ to ring. It was Sam. If it was possible, there would be question marks over his head.

"What, Sam?" he said tiredly.

"Yeah um…you need to prep a room real quick. Santana is coming. And she's probably bringing Brittany as well," Sam slowly broke it down for Kurt. "And before you freak out, she said she wanted to check on Quinn, which has nothing to do with  _her_."

Kurt rolled his eyes. "Sam, it's Quinn. Why does Santana want to check on Quinn? Because of Rachel. She's trapped herself in her room and won't open the damn door. I'm pretty sure that their problems have everything to do with each other."

Sam took a moment to think about it and hummed in agreement. "Yeah, why didn't I think of that?"

The other man rolled his eyes and had the urge to hang up. He just couldn't understand why these people could be so  _slow_  sometimes. "And yeah, Santana just has to add more problems to my extensive list, doesn't she?" he snapped and shook his head, huffing. "I'll prepare a room. You just…you watch over Quinn and  _make sure_  she doesn't destroy anything."

"Um…"

"What did she do?" Kurt asked warily.

"Well, you'll have to say bye to a couple of vases. And you probably need to get a new armchair," he squeaked the last word.

Kurt sighed harshly and fanned himself, trying to not get so frustrated. "Those vases aren't worth it," he muttered and rolled his eyes.  _Yeah right, they cost about two hundred bucks each. Fucking Fabray_. "And that armchair is easily replaceable. Just make sure she doesn't ruin anything else."

"Noted."

"And call me when Santana is here."

"Yes, sir."

"Okay bye."

Kurt disconnected and stood in front of the door again. He lifted his fist and knocked a few times. "Hey, Rachel? Can we talk now?" he queried. "Rach?" he called again. "Come on, you can't hide forever. You still have to come out tomorrow and be on set and believe me; you're still going to be stuck with Quinn until god-knows-when."

The second he said the magic word – or he believed he did – the door swung open violently and there stood Rachel. She was puffy-eyed, with hideous tear tracks running down her cheeks, her makeup smudged, her clothes messed up. His stance slackened and he instantly stepped forward to take Rachel in his arms.

"Oh, honey," he muttered, brushing her hair as she sobbed into his shoulder. He didn't even mind that she was leaving wet patches on his designer shirt. This was so much more important than his clothes. "Come on. Let's get inside." He led them into the bedroom and closed the door behind them. She kept wailing into his shoulder and his heart ached for his friend.  _Jesus, Quinn, what did you do?_

"You have to tell me what happened, Rach."

She clenched a handful of jacket in her hands and cried harder. She would sometimes hit him and cry harder. His heart took to another level of pain when her voice cracked as she wailed and she  _didn't_  panic. She didn't panic. Rachel Berry is not one to  _not_  panic when her voice  _cracked_. She was the one who would take a vow to not speak for a whole week if her tone didn't sound right. She was the one who would prowl the Internet for recipes to cure throat cancer when there was even a slight crack in her voice.

His eyes widened at the thought and he gulped. He unlocked his phone and tried his best to type a readable text to Artie with Rachel shaking in his arms. Rachel would definitely not be going on set tomorrow. A reply came five minutes later with Artie asking for the reason for her absence tomorrow. He typed back a quick reply to Artie saying that Rachel was sick – which was sort of true – and then apologized for the inconvenience.

It took Rachel fifteen minutes to finally cease crying and step back. She wiped her runny nose with the back of her sleeve and sniffled. She looked down on the floor and took a few breaths. Kurt stood, watching his client slash best friend worriedly. She tried to muster a smile, which was failed attempt because she looked constipated with such a forced expression.

She grimaced and closed her eyes. "I'm sorry for ruining your jacket, Kurt. I'll buy you a new one."

He shook his head frantically and grabbed Rachel by the arms. "No. Don't worry about the jacket. It's nothing. Sit down, Rachel. You're shaking." He led her to the edge of the bed and sat her down before settling next to her. He gave her a few moments before asking. "Rachel, do you want to talk about it?"

She shook her head. "No."

Kurt swallowed. He knew it was  _bad_  when she wouldn't even talk about it. "Are you sure?"

Her breath shuddered and shook her head again. "Yeah, I don't want to talk about it. Not ever. We're never talking about my bodyguard again.  _Never_ ," she stressed.

He couldn't help but notice that Rachel didn't use Quinn's name. "Rachel…"

"No!" she exclaimed and jumped to her feet. "I don't want to talk about her, okay? She's…she's not worth it!" He could only stare at her with a look of pity. She was lying and she herself knew it. "Kurt, please," she pleaded weakly.

He sighed. "I can't have you looking like a trainwreck and not do something about it, Rach. I'm worried about you. And when people see you tomorrow, they will worry about you too. I got you an off day tomorrow. I can't get you anymore or rumors will start."

"Let them start," Rachel said. "My life is nothing now. I shouldn't even have gotten my hopes up from the start."

"Okay, what did Quinn say?" Kurt finally asked, standing up. "She must've said  _something_ , and you better spill it or I'll ask her personally. I'm angry enough with her right now. Don't make me go crazier."

"I don't blame her." Rachel buried her face in her hands and sighed. "I told her I love her." His breath caught as he waited for the next thing Rachel was going to say. "I asked her if she believed me."

Her words hung in the air and his impatience got to him. "And?"

She lifted her face from her hands and stared at him with teary eyes. "No."

It was like the room was roofless and he swore he could hear thunder booming and see lightning crackling around them. He felt like he could just puke his guts out and he didn't even know why. Just hearing the word out of Rachel's lips and her miserable expression made him want to throw up. He felt like this was the end of the world or something and it wasn't even  _his_  relationship problem. This was more than just a problem though.

It was a disaster.

Kurt stood there frozen as Rachel concealed her mouth with her palm and shook her head without stopping. He didn't know why he felt so painful. Maybe it was because Rachel had told him so many times how she loved Quinn and he'd slowly grown attached to this tragic love story.

"Rachel," he said quietly.

She whined and shook her head harder. He was almost afraid she would shake off her head. He listened to her  _wheezing_  behind her hand and then she said, "I just need to be alone right now. Can you please go?" Her voice was strained and there were cracks everywhere but she didn't seem to mind even a little.

He slowly nodded. "I'll go make you some tea with honey then I'll be gone, okay?"

She nodded without saying a word and just waved him off. He went out and got her the tea. When he went back inside her room, she was sitting on the bed, staring into the space. He sighed and approached her, leaning down to kiss her on her forehead.

"Please promise me you won't do anything stupid," he whispered.

She didn't respond. He didn't expect her to. He sighed again and squeezed her arm before heading out, making sure to close the door behind him before he walked down the corridor and dialed his boyfriend's number.

* * *

Quinn was pouring herself coffee when they came in the back door. She looked up at them and, as if they were invisible, looked down again to her cup. There was no one else in the kitchen. The atmosphere was _tense_  and Santana could feel her hairs standing up. She gulped and kept a close eye on the blonde who sat down at the island as she poured her and Brittany their cups of coffee. The boys did the same and they joined Quinn at the island.

They drank in silence. Santana was watching Quinn while Brittany was playing with her fingers next to her. Puck and Sam were looking back and forth from the bodyguard to the Latina warily. You never knew what would happen when these two were together. You just didn't.

Twenty minutes passed without a word and Puck was growing uncomfortable. He fidgeted in his seat and pleaded silently for someone to say anything, even if it was to erupt a Fabray-Lopez war. It was like his wish was granted and he literally sighed in relief when Kurt walked in, standing frozen under the archway as he stared at the new additions.

His eyes lingered on Quinn for a couple of seconds longer, filled with despise and anger. He then turned to Santana and smiled tightly.

"Good to see you here with us, Santana. You too, Brittany." Brittany giggled and leaped off her seat. Before he knew it, he had an armful of Brittany squeezing him tightly. He made a note to check with the doctor to see if he had any broken ribs later. "Miss Fabray, Miss Berry won't be going on set today. She feels  _unwell_ ," he emphasized, pointedly staring at Quinn.

"Noted," Quinn replied without looking from her cup.

Kurt huffed and stalked towards the coffeemaker, pouring two cups of coffee and placing them on a tray. Then he took out eggs – fake, of course, since Rachel was vegan – from the fridge and rolls from a cabinet.

"Would you guys like breakfast?" he asked politely.

"Yes, I am starving," Puck said.

"Yeah me too," Sam seconded.

"Make some for Britts," Santana added in.

"Oh do you have bacon? I think Quinn would like some," Brittany voiced with a grin on her face.

Kurt paused in his movements before saying, "Sure. Rachel had some bought specially when she found out Quinn was her bodyguard," he informed, obviously directing it to Quinn.

Quinn whooshed out a breath before standing to her feet, taking her cup to the sink and putting it in. "No. I'm not hungry. I'm just going to make my rounds," she said, before leaving; the room maintaining an eerie silence, save the sound of Kurt's knife on the cutting board.

"Quinn is really sad," Brittany commented after a few moments of silence.

Kurt's knife hacked against the board loudly, startling everyone. He turned around slowly with an angry look on his face as he addressed Brittany, "Go and see Rachel and I dare you to tell me the same thing you said before."

"Hey!" Santana protested. "Don't take it out on Britt. She knows nothing. On that note, neither do I."

"Your best friend has trust issues," Kurt said. "Severe trust issues. I recommend she see a therapist to fix that. It's because of her trust issues that  _my_  best friend is now cooped up in her room looking like someone murdered her fathers."

"Yeah well, you can't blame her for having trust issues, Hummel," Santana retorted.

"I damn well can!" Kurt argued. "She betrayed Rachel's trust in the first place. Why the hell is she acting like a bitch when Rachel is trying to be nice, huh? Shouldn't she be the one begging for Rachel to take her back? Why is it that the situation has turned around?"

"Believe me when I said Quinn has  _every_  reason to have trust issues. I'm not saying Rachel is completely wrong, but she's wrong at some places. Quinn has been hiding something from me for years. Something about that midget who you say is so depressed. She left Quinn for some other reason, which I don't know of." Santana paused, giving Kurt space to argue. Looking at his stricken expression, she knew he knew something. "And she's from the army, Hummel. What else do you expect? You don't simply  _trust_  people when you're in the fucking army. Are you daft or something?"

"Okay, fine. Maybe you're right. But that doesn't give her any reason to hurt Rachel like she did yesterday."

"I don't even know what happened yesterday!"

"She doesn't believe that Rachel loves her!" Kurt yelled back. The other three people were watching them and Brittany was slightly terrified with what was happening now. Santana frowned at his statement. "Rachel told her she loves her. She asked Quinn if she believed her. Quinn said  _no_."

"Don't fuck with me, Hummel."

"My best friend's heart is on the line here. Do you think I would joke about shit like this?"

"Berry left her."

"That doesn't mean she didn't love her."

"If she did, she wouldn't have left."

"She was afraid."

"There was some other reason she left."

"You don't know that."

"See? You're lying. I know when somebody lies; I'm the expert of lies for fuck's sake. Now spill, Hummel."

"Will you people please just shut up?" Another voice wafted in. They turned to the source and saw an awful looking Rachel standing there. "Please." They stayed quiet. Brittany was ready to go and hug Rachel because she looked so depressed but Santana was holding her down. Rachel nodded and said, "Thank you."

She made her way inside. "You wanna know the other reason, Santana?" The Latina nodded quietly. "Okay." She squeezed her eyes shut and took a deep breath. "I left because I was afraid." Santana scoffed. "Believe me, Santana, even if you don't trust me, just believe me for now because I honestly cannot find the energy to lie or argue. I was really scared, so I left. But I also left because…I was offered a job opportunity in LA. I couldn't miss it. So I took it."

Everyone's breath caught except for Kurt and Rachel. Puck and Sam's eyes widened and they just stared at Rachel as though she were a whole different person. Brittany whimpered when Santana's grip on her wrist tightened and her entire posture stiffened.

"I am going to  _kill_  you." Then she lunged.


	8. always

"Santana!"

Quinn paused for a second and then took off in a short sprint back to the kitchen door only to find Sam and Brittany trying to restrain Santana, who was struggling out of their hold with her arms held out and her fingers clawing at thin air. Puck was standing by as if he didn't know what he should do. She shifted her gaze to Kurt, who was standing in front of Rachel as though he was shielding her.

"Let me at her!" Santana shrieked with so much rage. There were tears welling up on the rim of her eyes.

"San, you need to calm down," Brittany said, her tone choked as she tried to hold back her own tears. " _Please_. Hurting Rachel won't do you any good," she added when Santana didn't seem to be calming down.

"She  _hurt_ Quinn, Britt. I can't calm down. She left Quinn for some goddamn opportunity in LA. What kind of girlfriend does that for anything less than some superficial and fucked up reasons? Just let me go!" she cried and bit into Sam's arm.

Sam yelped and his grip loosened, leaving only Brittany as an anchor to hold Santana back, which wasn't much help because the Latina could be very strong when she was really fueled up. Brittany finally let go and Santana bolted like lightning. Before she could do anything to hurt Rachel, she was slammed back into the island by a stronger force.

Santana hissed in pain and her eyes squeezed shut for a second. She could hear low growling from the person holding her in place and  _damn it_  she couldn't get out. She opened her eyes to see the subject of their argument pinning her wrists to the island surface and if the people there didn't know better, they would have thought they were going to do something sexual.

Quinn was snarling in her face; the anger and fire in her eyes almost scared Santana, but it was not enough. Santana narrowed her eyes and glared back at Quinn, telling her to let go silently; Quinn's own posture showing that she wouldn't, her head tilted to the side as if ready to pounce on her and rip her to shreds. There was so much tension in the room that it was almost freezing cold.

"Let me go, Quinn," Santana finally verbalized her command.

The blonde shook her head. "No," she growled. "You hurt her. I hurt you. I don't care what she told you, though I assume she's told you the other reason. Still, I don't care. She is off limits and you should know that. But if you don't, I will tell you now. If you touch her in any harmful way, I swear to God I will find you, and you won't like what I'll do to you."

Santana huffed and clenched her jaw. "Quinn, she  _left_  you."

"I betrayed her trust first. You said that yourself when you gave me the job. I joined the army without consulting her and she had every right to leave me. The job opportunity was just motivation for her departure. I can't say I'm not angry at her for leaving because of that, but I can say I'm not angry at her for leaving because of what I did."

"She still hurt you. She cut off all contact. She made you who you are now."

"No, I made me who I am now. I'm the fucked up one who couldn't let go. She's the smart one who let me go."

"I didn't," Rachel cut in.

" _Shut up_ ," Quinn snapped angrily, glancing over her shoulder. "I'm trying to save your ass here so please just let me talk."

"I can protect myself," Rachel retorted stubbornly.

Quinn closed her eyes and clenched her jaw. The vein in her neck was throbbing with adrenaline and frustration and plain rage. She took a deep cleansing breath and decided to ignore Rachel and focus on Santana. She opened her eyes to look straight into the Latina's.

"I said it once, I'll say it again, if you hurt her, I'll hurt you," Quinn said lowly.

"After all she's done to you?" Santana asked with an incredulous look on her face.

There was a pause in the air as Quinn and Santana were challenging each other with their eyes. Brittany was trying to find a way to interject and Rachel was trying to interrupt, but Kurt was stopping her with his hand over her mouth. Then Quinn said a word that withdrew three gasps from around the room.

" _Always_."

Santana's eyes widened a fraction and Quinn just stood there. Both of them could practically hear her heart clench and squeezing the last bit of blood she had as she said the word. Finally, she nodded and relaxed her posture. She released a breath and accepted defeat.

Quinn could sense the change in Santana, so she released her and straightened, adjusting the lapels of her jacket. Then she nodded her head at Santana before ducking and quickly escaping the room. She stopped at the door before completely leaving, and looked out at the backyard where the pool house was nothing but a small dot in her view.

"Don't ever lie to me again," she said softly and left.

But not before she heard, "I  _wasn't_ , you idiot."

* * *

Maybe Brittany Susan Pierce wasn't the smartest person in the universe. Maybe she was slow sometimes; but that didn't mean she was stupid. She was just smart from another perspective, such as reading people and evaluating situations.

The truth was she chose to keep quiet. She knew things would turn for the worse if she said something that should not be said. The universe was weird that way. People asked for honesty, but when they got it, they're just got pissed and threw chairs and stuff like that.

Maybe they didn't see it. But right now, as Santana laid on the bed with her head on her lap idly flicking through a magazine, Brittany's heart was aching. Not for herself, but for Quinn. She could read people, and she could read Rachel pretty well because that girl always displayed her emotions like neon lights on her face.

And she knew that Santana was right.

Rachel was a superficial girlfriend- or at least she was four years ago. She couldn't know for certain if she was still that way now. Brittany hadn't seen the girl for eons and she just didn't know. She couldn't read Rachel while she had been busy keeping Santana from murdering the actress, however she could see the truth shining behind Rachel's eyes when she said she wasn't lying.

Brittany wanted Quinn to believe Rachel, but the other blonde was too damaged to believe in anything anymore. The dancer could see the dullness in Quinn's hazel eyes. She could see the pain and cracks hiding behind the stony expression. In her opinion, Rachel wasn't as good an actress when compared to Quinn. Quinn mastered the skill of hiding her pain and torment and replaced it with almost-real smiles and laughs.

Nobody could see that she was in pain except for Brittany and Santana. And Santana knew all of this because Brittany had told her every time Quinn visited. Santana found it hard to believe at first, but then slowly grew to believe in her when she had kept an eye on Quinn the next day.

Brittany ached for Quinn because after four years, she was still so hung up on that one girl who did nothing but shatter her heart to pieces. She was willing to hurt her best friend for a girl like that.

When Quinn was pinning Santana to the island, she had a look on her face that Brittany had never seen on Quinn before. It was ferocious and angry and frustrated and there was an obvious love reflected in her eyes. Love that was not targeted towards Santana, but towards the girl cowering behind Kurt.

In that moment, Brittany had truly felt ire towards Rachel Berry. She blamed her for putting that look on Quinn's face. She blamed her for putting Quinn through so much agony.

"What are you thinking, Britt?"

Brittany snapped out of her thoughts and looked down at Santana. Her fingers stopped stroking through Santana's locks and instead settled on the top of her head. Brittany sighed and swallowed.

"I'm thinking of Quinn and Rachel," she admitted and released another sigh.

Santana tensed and she slowly sat upright, maneuvered herself to sit next to Brittany. "What about them?" she asked softly.

"Rachel wasn't lying, you know, when she said she still loved Quinn. Well, she didn't actually say it but she sort of said it…" she trailed off. "I can see it. She wasn't lying."

"It's too late for her now," Santana quickly said, a little too angrily. "And frankly, I'm glad it's too late for her. That could spare Q the misery."

"But it isn't," Brittany stated as if it was obvious.

Santana played with Brittany's fingers and breathed harshly through her nose as she clenched and unclenched her jaw. "God, she could be so stupid sometimes," she finally exclaimed as she climbed out of bed and started to pace the floor in front of it. "I mean, who on God's earth would do that when their partner ditched them for their own stupid dreams? Quinn -motherfucking -Fabray, obviously. Well, of course, 'cause she's dumb as fuck and couldn't see that I was trying to do justice for her."

"Are you saying you wouldn't protect me?"

"Of course I would protect you! I love you and don't even put us in their positions because their positions are annoying and irritating and stupid and you and I are better than them."

"But what if we  _were_  in their positions?" Brittany insisted. "Not that I would leave you 'cause you're awesome to cuddle with, but what if we were in their positions and someone wanted to attack me? Would you protect me?"

"Of course I would!" Santana said quickly and then paused. She churned Brittany's argument over in her mind for a moment and then groaned, lowering herself into a crouch and lifting her arms to lean her head against them. "You don't fight fair," she muttered.

"No, I'm just saying that it's not Quinn's fault for wanting to protect Rachel 'cause she still loves her." Brittany slid out of bed and sat in front of Santana, taking her hands and looking into her girlfriend's eyes. "And I would do the same for you. Because I love you. And you're an awesome cuddle buddy."

"Brittany," Santana whined and the blonde chuckled. "We still can't do anything."

Brittany hummed and then said, "I wanna go talk to Rachel." She looked at Santana carefully, gauging her reaction.

Santana struggled between agreeing and saying no. She didn't want her girlfriend near Berry because while she was obviously beyond furious with that midget, she also thought that it would be a good idea for them to talk. Maybe Brittany could use her pure genius to help Rachel out and knock some sense into Quinn's damaged head.

She wanted to help her best friend because try as she might, Quinn was the happiest when she was with Rachel. Well, at least she was four years ago.

Santana sighed and shrugged. "I guess I have no choice but to let you go talk to her. I want to help Quinn too."

The blonde smiled. "And maybe you could go talk to Quinn?"

"No. She hates me enough," Santana said quickly.

"She doesn't hate you," Brittany chastised and cupped Santana's cheek. "She's just disappointed because you lied to her. You can make things right again. Quinn's a soft person," she added with a smirk.

Santana couldn't help but smirk too. "I'll talk to her later when we get to the charity show. I promise. Now I'm just really tired and we have to unpack."

Brittany hummed. "Well, okay. I'll go find Rachel now."

The Latina leaned forward to lay a kiss on Brittany's lips. "I'll see you later," she whispered against Brittany's lips and then kissed her again.

* * *

Rachel was standing at the threshold looking out at her estate when Brittany found her. She didn't notice the dancer's presence though; she was too deep in her thoughts to notice anything. She had a shawl wrapped around her and she was dressed in very casual clothing.

It had been a very tiring week for her. Quinn was adamant in her avoidance of her and rejecting her advances – if they could even be called that. She herself was basically rejected of her love because the opposite was too damaged to believe in anyone, especially someone who broke her heart in the first place. Added to all this was that she could lose her life any time now because of some psycho out there who wanted her gone.

Come to think of it, she really wouldn't mind if Santana had killed her just now. She wouldn't mind if that psycho appeared now and stabbed her in the heart; that would ease her pain so easily.

She wished she had a time machine so she could turn back the clock and not leave Quinn behind, nut that was just a foolish wish that could never be fulfilled based on today's technology. She wished she could change Quinn's stubborn mind. She wished life could just be  _easy_.

"Thinking so hard will make your head crack." She jumped and turned partly to see Brittany standing a step behind her. Brittany smiled and shrugged. "Like there's gonna be a crack in your skull."

Rachel frowned and then remembered that Brittany didn't make sense sometimes so she just shrugged and turned back to the view in front of her. "What do you want, Brittany?"

"I want to talk to you about Quinn."

That was a blatant reply that made Rachel freeze entirely. Her grip on the shawl tightened and she took in a deep breath. "There's nothing about her to talk about," she said between clenched teeth. "You should go back to Santana. Get some rest before we drive out."

"There are a lot of things about her to talk about," Brittany corrected and moved forward so she could stand right next to Rachel. "Try harder, Rachel." The brunette turned to the dancer sharply, an offended look on her face. "I mean literally,  _try harder_."

"How? She doesn't trust me. I guess she has a valid reason. I just don't understand why  _I_ trust  _her_  when she was at the wrong…er side," Rachel said and frowned at her choice of words. "I'm just saying I should be the one who doesn't trust her, right?"

Brittany hummed in high pitch before saying, "You both have rights to not trust each other. But I'd prefer it if you trust each other. Then Santana wouldn't be so angry and I wouldn't miss out on sexy times."

Rachel's eyes widened a fraction and she stared at Brittany with her mouth slight agape before finally closing it again and looked back to the front, gulping. "Well, I'm sorry for…interrupting your sexy times," she said slowly, picking through her words carefully. "However, I still don't know how to 'try harder'," she air quoted.

"Don't force her into something she's not ready for yet," Brittany started. "Like trusting you. She's not ready to trust you just yet. And like San said, she came from the armor –"

"The army," Rachel quickly corrected.

"That's what I said, isn't it? Anyway, she came from the army and people in the army don't normally trust people because the other people might shoot you or throw you in a pit or something. So you'll have to mature it."

"Nurture."

"Stop interrupting me, Rachel." Rachel rolled her eyes and let out an exaggerated sigh. "You'll have to nurture it to get her to trust you again." At the look on Rachel's face, she rolled her eyes. "Land a truce with her. Talk to her like a friend, not like a desperate woman. I believe she will slowly get used to it and slowly trust you."

The brunette thought on it for awhile and then a wry smile tugged on her lips. For someone like Brittany, she gave one of the best plans ever. "That's a pretty good plan," she said.

"It's not a plan. It's all you can do," Brittany said straightforwardly.

Rachel nodded hesitantly. "Don't burst my bubble, Brittany," she said softly. "Sometimes, people just need bubbles to not hurt so much."

"That's why bubbles are awesome," the blonde remarked with a grin.

Rachel chuckled and turned to Brittany and leaned forward to hug her. Brittany, always the hugger, giggled and wrapped her strong arms around Rachel's waist, lifting her from the ground. Rachel squealed in surprise and laughed.

They didn't notice the blonde woman watching them from the garage with a small smile on her lips.

Or the man hiding behind one of the trees on the side of the driveway.

* * *

Quinn smiled at the vendor, who looked like he should have retired ages ago, as he handed her a cup of coffee. She paid him, telling him to keep the change. She sipped on the coffee and strode towards the entrance of the building where Rachel would be performing. She walked up the stairs to the indoor balcony and looked down, surveying the area.

She touched the Bluetooth headset on her ear and began barking orders to her subordinates, letting them know where they should be for the entire charity show. She was glad she had at least some obedient ones who actually listened to her, like Marley Rose and Mike Chang. The one she was most displeased with was Azimio, but that wasn't a surprise.

She posted Puck and Sam to the backdoor. Her mind lingered a bit on the idea that Puck was behind all this, but she decided against pursuing it until she got more concrete evidence and not just a whiff of cologne.

She glanced at her watch and saw that there was still an hour until the show began. Unsurprisingly, Rachel had the opening number  _and_  the closing number, which was a rare occasion according to the whispers she heard amongst the audience. She remained on the balcony, keeping an eye on anyone suspicious in the audience.

She heard footsteps behind her but made no move because she knew who it was. The familiar strong click-clack of heels was telling enough. She closed her eyes for a second; bracing herself for the verbal attack she was sure going to receive.

"I don't think you're doing a fantastic job at this bodyguard thing, Fabray," Santana's voice sounded in her ear as she sidled up next to her, leaning against the banister and assuming the same posture Quinn held.

Quinn couldn't help the smile that appeared on her face. "I'm doing it loads better than 'fantastic'," she air quoted. "And if you think I suck, you should've known better the first place, rather than hiring me."

There was a moment of silence where Quinn just mouthed numbers of seats and people and other statistics she ran through her mind.

"I'm sorry," Santana finally apologized.

Quinn's mouth closed and she looked on for another second or two before her head slowly twisted sideway to look at Santana. "What?"

Santana sighed and ran her palm down her face. "I'm sorry," she repeated, her voice strained. "I didn't know things would turn out so bad. I didn't know things were so much more complicated than I originally thought. I took the liberty of putting myself in your current position, and I'm sorry."

The blonde chuckled dryly and covered her face with her hand, shaking her head. Santana stared at her curiously, wondering why she was laughing when she was apologizing. Then Quinn finally heaved and put down her hand. The grin on her face slowly faded and she took a shuddering breath.

"You're so lucky that Brittany is there for you. You're so lucky to have someone who loves you back with you. Do you realize how lucky you are?" Quinn queried, looking at her with a frown.

"I do," Santana answered honestly. "I know I am  _very_  lucky because Brittany is light and joy and just…plain happiness, while I'm dark and dangerous and evil. I kept waiting for that day where she'll leave too but…that day didn't come. And I saw  _you_  and I just thought… _Damn, this girl is worth every fucking piece of my heart_."

Quinn smiled and pushed herself to a straight standing position. She turned around and smacked a hand on Santana's shoulder. "Glad you know that," she whispered and started walking away. "And apology accepted, bitch," she called back before going down the stairs.

Santana laughed and played with her fingers for a little while longer before noticing someone waving at her out of the corner of her eye. She directed her gaze towards them and saw Brittany standing there with Kurt, waving at her with a grin on her face. The Latina's smile widened and she waved back as she made her way downstairs towards the love of her life.

The bodyguard discarded the empty paper cup into the dustbin and made her way backstage. She was greeted with a scene of chaos where the crew was just in a rush, going everywhere. She shook her head and momentarily wondered how they cope with this kind of work situation before she made a beeline towards the dressing rooms. She walked down the corridors, passing a dozen dressing rooms before she made a right turn to a quiet one on the left with only one door.

She stood in front of her, staring at the name plaque on the door. Embossed in golden scripture, 'Rachel Berry' stood out proudly against the dull green of the door. Her heart swelled up in pride at the thought of Rachel's success, even if it was at the cost of her heartbreak. She let out a breath through her nose and shoved her hands into her jacket pockets, silently waiting for Rachel to finish getting ready so she could escort her backstage.

She rested her head against the wall behind her and listened to Rachel doing her vocal runs inside. Her voice was just  _so_  glorious and beautiful that Quinn could listen to her all day long and not have any complaints. Her exhaustion nearly overtook her before she heard footsteps coming toward her from the end of the corridor. Her eyes snapped open and she turned abruptly.

A tall, familiar looking man in an all-black suit approached her. He wore an annoying smirk on his face and there was this glint in his eyes that was bordering on creepy. He stopped in front of her and they stared each other for a long moment. Even though he was taller than her, she didn't back down. She never backed down.

"Quinn Fabray, right?" he finally asked. She blinked in shock and blinked twice again as she nodded numbly. His smirk grew and he offered his hand. "Dustin Goolsby, former First Sergeant in Afghanistan, Infantry 603."

That was when it dawned on her. That was why his name sounded familiar to her. That was why he looked familiar to her. He was her officer-in-charge once. He was really strict but he was a great man. He always told her jokes and talked to her more than he did to the other people in her unit. He was also the only one she had told about the letters to Rachel her entire time in the army. The scar on his forehead was still there. It was the remnants of an accident, where he carelessly veered his truck off road and hit a tree.

"Sir," she greeted with a grin and shook his hand firmly.

His smirk turned into a grin and he laughed. "Call me Dustin. We're not in Afghanistan anymore." She nodded and they let go of each other's hands. "So I see you didn't die." They laughed and she nodded, holding out her arms and put them down again. "That's good to know."

"What are you doing here?" she asked. "I mean, I know you're the executive producer of the movie. I'm just wondering how a man from the military is now in the entertainment industry."

"I'm not really in the entertainment industry," he said with a shrug. "I just invested in the movie 'cause I thought it will be a good one. And it tells the story of someone in the army and uh…it kind of reminded me of you." She frowned and he grinned. "It's about a gay woman, like you, who left to serve the country. And there's a girlfriend. So…"

There was a pang in her heart and she tried to swallow the lump that had suddenly lodged itself in her throat. "Uh, yeah," she said with a nervous laugh. "But we're…broken up already. Like…you know my story."

"Oh I know," Dustin said. "And I heard that uh… _she's_  in the movie, and you were still smitten and I thought I could help her a little, ya know, in case you…" he trailed off and cleared his throat.

"Oh," she said dumbly and cleared her own throat as she shuffled on her feet. "Thank you for that. I appreciate it. Really, thank you. I can see that her future's a lot brighter now."

Dustin smiled and nodded. "What are you doing here though?"

She tensed and gulped as she looked towards the door. Rachel had stopped singing, she noticed. She cleared her throat and looked back to him with a tense smile.

"Well, you know, she's been getting threatening letters, so Kurt decided to hire a bodyguard. So uh…here I am," she said with a shrug. "It was a good choice because there was a bomb in the trailer two days ago and if I hadn't been there, I think the movie was going to be over before it even got started."

"Are you okay, though?" he asked, voiced laced with concern.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm doing as best as I can. Don't worry, Sir. Um…did you want to talk to her? I think she's gonna be out in a minute."

Just then, the door swung open, revealing Rachel behind it. Quinn's breath hitched in her throat when she saw her. She kept her mouth shut because she wasn't sure what would come out if she opened it. She whimpered soundlessly and tried to look away but she couldn't. She couldn't.

Because Rachel was standing there in a  _ridiculously_  short black strapless dress. A delicious amount of her cleavage was showing and Quinn just wanted to reach out, but she kept her hands behind her, clenched in fists. She was sure her palms were indented with moon-shaped dents by now. Rachel's endless legs were concealed by knee-high leather boots and Quinn's brow rose slightly at the mouthwatering view.

 _Jesus, Rachel,_ her mind whispered as she forced her eyes to stop wandering and focus on Rachel's face. _Stay on her face, you dumb idiot,_ she scolded herself.

There was a smile on Rachel's face and she looked surprised when she saw Dustin; but Quinn knew that was a fake look. Rachel was feigning shock. Quinn then realized that Rachel had heard her conversation with Dustin and her heart dropped.

 _Shit_.

Rachel and Dustin were talking about something, but Quinn couldn't hear them. She was trying to find a way to run and not face Rachel alone later, but she couldn't. Dustin leaned down to hug Rachel before he walked away, leaving them alone. He looked over his shoulder and nodded curtly at Quinn.

She returned the nod and then looked back at Rachel. The smile on her face was gone, replaced by a forlorn look on her face. Quinn sighed and ran her hand through her hair.

"Uh…you look great," she complimented with a strained smile and Rachel nodded. She was still staring at the blonde and she finally caved. "Okay, what did you hear?"

"You didn't tell Dustin you were doing well," Rachel commented.

Quinn raised her brows. Of all things, she had to focus on  _that_. "That's because I'm not. I'm doing as best as I can to not run out of the property or even run out of here so I don't have to see you again and feel painful over and over and over and over and  _over_  again."

"Why do you choose to be honest now when you weren't before?" Rachel said with a pained look on her face.

"Because I asked you to not lie to me. I thought I owed you the same courtesy," Quinn answered politely.

"I love you." Quinn squeezed her eyes shut at that and she tried to not lash out at the brunette. "You told me to be honest."

"You weren't."

"Yes, I was. And I  _am_  now. I love you."

"Look, can we please not do this?" Quinn snapped, holding her palms out in a defensive stance and staring at Rachel in defeat. "I'm just so done with all the arguments a-and the  _constant_  lying a-a-and the constant interruption of my job because of you and I. I'm here to protect you, and that's it. I want us to stop arguing and I just want us to…to talk civilly if needed and stop with all the 'I love you' crap."

"Okay." Quinn looked up in surprise. "You should also know that I overheard you and Dustin. But here's one thing you can't avoid. I am going to make you believe that I love you. And I'm going to gain your trust. And then I'm going to kiss you. After that, we'll conquer the world together."

"Jesus, Rachel," she whined.

"No, Quinn, I'm going to prove to you that I truly do still love you. Come hell or high water, I will make you believe that. But I'll live with the status of friends first. Really casual friends. At least give me that."

Quinn sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. "You're so unfair," she said with a reluctant laugh.

Rachel shrugged with a small, sad smile. "Yeah well, I never fight fair."

Quinn chuckled and looked up. "As much as you want to prove it to me, you still have a show. I still have a job. And so, I'm just going to escort you backstage, and then I'll watch you perform whilst looking out for you."

Rachel smiled and nodded. "Alright."


	9. guns and bandages

It was amazing. Seeing Rachel perform on stage for the first time in four years was a sensational experience. She always knew Rachel was in her true element whenever she was on stage. She never doubted the brunette's talent. She was one in a million and Quinn was glad that someone had seen that as well and successfully fulfilled her dreams.

Quinn stood at very back by the main entrance, her arms crossed behind her as she watched her ex-girlfriend sing her heart out on stage. A tiny smile tugged at her lips as she watched the passion on Rachel's face. She swore she could listen to her for the rest of her life and not regret anything.

She tore her eyes away from the singer on stage and surveyed the auditorium. It was definitely a huge charity show, despite the setup. People from the richest backgrounds were here, men and women alike. Entrepreneurs and successful businessmen filled the room. There were quite a number of gold diggers around as well. They flaunted their jewelry and their wealth, obviously in a silent competition with the others.

She rolled her eyes at their naiveté and had gone back to watching Rachel when an odd movement from someone in the audience caught her eye. Someone was stood up among the seats and was digging into his pants, despite the insistence of the audience behind him to sit down whilst shushing him. He wasn't listening. It was too dark for her to see what he looked like.

She frowned and lifted her fingers to the Bluetooth on her ear. "We have a possible rat. Terminate it," she said lowly, watching the mysterious man warily. "Now," she added.

 _Too late_ , a voice in her head whispered as the man took out an L-shaped item from the back of his pants. Her eyes widened and she took off like lightning, speeding through the aisle and jumping on stage to grab Rachel just as the gun went off, the sound resonated throughout the auditorium. There was maybe two seconds of silence before someone shrieked and the entire crowd went off running like maniacs.

She lifted her head from the ground and hissed as she felt a pain in her arm. She glanced at it and saw that the bullet had grazed her right forearm.  _Damn_   _it_. She disregarded it and turned to the woman she was still covering. She withdrew her arm a little to see Rachel's panicked face. She gulped and nodded at her to assure her before helping her stand up.

"Quinn!" she could hear Sam called.

She swung around and, instead of seeing Sam, she saw four men emerging from the wings of the stage. Her eyes widened and her arms tightened around Rachel. They didn't bother wearing masks but it was obvious by the intense look in their eyes that they were there for Rachel.

"Over my dead body," she whispered and pulled out her gun, ignoring the pain in her arm.

She knew she could never escape four men at a time, not with a person in her arms. She swallowed and quickly tried to think of a solution. They were closing in and she  _really_  had to think of something.

"Quinn." She looked down to see Rachel staring at her fearfully. "Just go."

"No," Quinn gritted between clenched jaws without even thinking. "You're nuts if you think I'm gonna leave you here." She tightened her arm and began turning them to face the stage. "Here's what you're gonna do," she finally said, her voice low enough that the four men couldn't hear her. "You're gonna run out as fast as you can. Find Karofsky and go back home. I'll be back before you know it."

"What? No!" Rachel exclaimed, staring at her in horror; not for her own safety but for Quinn's. "It's not going to work!"

"Yes it is," Quinn insisted. She finally looked down; her gun still aimed at the four advancing men. The pain in her arm had turned numb. She stared into Rachel's eyes and took a deep breath. "Trust me," she whispered agonizingly. "Go."

Without further ado, she pushed Rachel down the stage. Luckily, Sam was there to catch her and he nodded at Quinn, simultaneously reassuring her and telling her to be careful. She returned it and looked back at the four imposing figures. One of them, a bald one, looked ready to chase after them but she aimed her gun at him.

"Don't even think about it," she hissed.

They were watching each other closely. Quinn knew in her gut that it wasn't possible for her to beat them. The chances were slim to none. She was one to four of them, and no matter how tough she made herself to be, she was still a woman. Her physical strength would never be enough. As she waited for one of them to make a move, she calculated her chances in her head.

She'd go home with a couple of wounds here and there, but she promised herself she wouldn't get severely injured or killed. No. Rachel still needed her. She had to protect Rachel until the perpetrator was capture. The perpetrator behind today's shenanigans. She huffed and hunched, ready to attack.

In not more than three seconds, all of them rushed her and she expertly deflected their attacks. She punched the first in the stomach while giving the other a kick in the crotch. They grunted and stumbled back. She smirked and quickly backhanded the third one. The back of her hand ached as the bones hit his skull, but her strength was enough to knock him to the ground. Quickly, three of them were already on the floor. She wasn't aware of the fourth when she was taking down the third man, allowing herself to be captured. His arm went around her neck and the other encircled her lower body, trapping her to him.

She grunted and stepped on his foot hard. He howled and let go of her. She quickly swung around and gave him a right uppercut. He tumbled down the stage and landed on the floor on his back. She took the opportunity to run off to the backstage. Only then did she realize that everyone had dispersed. She took a deep breath and hid behind the sound stage, successfully concealing herself from the men who'd gotten themselves cleared up and up on their feet.

She watched warily, her arm in pain and she was sure that guy who caught her just now had slit her stomach a little. She kept an eye on them as she looked down and sure enough, her blouse was ruined with dripping blood. She groaned. She had to get back fast before the wound got infected.

Quinn huffed and struggled to get up on her feet. She crept away from the men, who were still looking for her in every corner. She wouldn't be able to make it out the exit without passing them. Her eyes roamed the area, searching for an alternative route out.

None.

Fucking auditorium was freaking round and there wasn't a place where she could sneak out. She sighed and shook her head as she saw her dropped gun in the middle of the stage, right behind one of the brute forces. She cursed fate and tried to sneak out without making a noise.

A loose floorboard. That was it. It creaked loudly in the empty auditorium with fucking awesome acoustics and drew all the attention to her. She rolled her eyes and cursed again before running in full speed down the stage and through the aisles as gunshots rang out around her. She stumbled when one grazed her shoulder but it didn't stop her. She was just a few feet away from the exit when one of them caught her on her injured shoulder and she yelped, dropping to her knees.

The hand pulled her up and swung her around. Before she knew it, a fist came into her vision and connected with her right eye. She staggered back a couple yards and hissed in pain as a second punch landed on her stomach, tearing open her wound.

"Jesus," she seethed, as she pushed through the pain and hastily wrapped her around the man's head, pulling him down to knock him out with his knee.

He went down and she quickly grabbed the phone that had dropped out of his pocket before hurrying out into the streets. His accomplices wouldn't dare chase her out here. It was too public and they wouldn't want to be arrested. She looked around and noticed people were starting to stare at her weirdly. She covered her stomach wound and leaned against a lamppost, stretching her arm out to hail a cab.

Her vision was starting to blur and her head was dizzy and aching. God, she hadn't been in this much pain since she crashed her plane and had been sent home. Her wounds were literally eating her flesh. She was on her way to face planting on the ground when someone grabbed her elbow and pulled her up again. She felt herself lifted off the ground and she opened her eyes to see who it was.

All she caught was pair of glasses and a swept back hair style before she blacked out.

* * *

She felt bandages all over her and groaned. What the fuck? She didn't need a bandage. Just sew the fucking wounds up and be done with it. Someone was holding onto her hand and she took her hand away. She huffed and opened her eyes all of a sudden, sending all kinds of pain into her head. She ignored it and started to get up, again ignoring the ache in her stomach.

Her body was obviously protesting movement but she refused to yield. She had a job. She refused to let herself succumb to weakness. She was still unaware of her surroundings; she just wanted to get up on her feet and go back to kicking the asses of those who dared to threaten Rachel. The thought of Rachel flashed herself back from her self-induced stubbornness to reality. Her vision cleared and voices started flowing into her auditory nerve.

"Quinn, please."

She swept the room with her eyes wide.

"Quinn."

She wasn't in a hospital. Oh no.

"Quinn, lie down, please."

The coloring was too warm to be a hospital room. The furnishings were also too classy for a hospital.

"Quinn!" The voice was bordering on desperation and she looked to it.

Rachel.

Her eyes were glassy with tears and her lips were quivering. Quinn took a deep breath and swallowed before she swung her legs over the bed and stood up, suppressing the hiss of pain. Her grip on the bed sheet was tight as she slipped her feet into a pair of slippers.

Rachel was her side the next moment, gripping her arm. Quinn groaned and struggled to take it away and get the hell out of this room. It was suffocating her. She cursed at her body for being so weak. She cursed at herself for allowing herself to faint.

But Rachel was being her own fucking self and wouldn't let her go. Quinn looked up at the ceiling and took a few deep breaths before she used all her energy to tear her arm away. Rachel whimpered and her arms were limp by her sides. Quinn tried her best to ignore it and limped to the door.

"I know you think you're weak right now," Rachel whispered painfully. Her steps stopped halfway and she froze on the spot. "But you're not. You're brave. And amazing. And you're beautiful," her voice escalated with each description. "But you're also a human being."

"I think we've established that." Her voice came out hoarse and un-Quinn-like.

"Don't go all defensive on me, Quinn," Rachel snapped as her voice hardened. "I'm trying to act as a friend and help you. I'm reaching my limitations with not being able to touch you places I  _should_  be able to touch and take care of you the way I  _should_  be taking care of you. I nearly  _imploded_ when I saw Sebastian fucking Smythe carry you back here like he's your goddamn boyfriend!"

Quinn narrowed her eyes and turned around to face Rachel fully for the first time since she woke up. "Wait, Sebastian brought me home?"

Rachel stared at her slack jawed before she groaned loudly and stomped her foot in true Rachel Berry fashion. "Quinn Fabray!" she exclaimed.

She blinked. "What?" she asked dumbly.

Rachel Berry released a breath in frustration and stuck her hands to her hips. "Can we  _not_  talk about him for a minute and just get you in bed? I promised I'd call the doctor once you woke up so please make it easy for me."

Quinn stared at her for a moment before shaking her head and turning around, her hand on the door knob.

"If you open that door, Fabray, I swear to all that's holy I will personally strap you to the bed with the strongest material I can find," Rachel threatened. "Don't challenge me."

There was something in Rachel's voice. Toughness? Anger? Concern? She wasn't sure, but there was  _something_  she couldn't quite identify in her still-blurry mind that made her obediently turn around and go back to bed. She kept her gaze away from Rachel choosing instead to look down at her fingers as Rachel tucked her in.

She was still staring at her fingers, contemplating ways to get out of there when Rachel picked up her phone and called the doctor. She was whispering words as if hiding from Quinn – which she was. Quinn lifted her head and frowned at her. What was she keeping from her?

When Rachel hung up the phone, she voiced her question as soon as the brunette sat down on the chair next to the bed.

Rachel stared at her wide-eyed before shaking her head. "Nothing." Quinn narrowed her eyes. "Look, the doctor will be here in a few minutes and he's going to explain it all to you. I was too worried about you to hear what he said."

Quinn nodded and looked away again. She stared at the picture hung on the wall. It displayed a tiny cottage on a hill with colorful flowers and grass. There was a kid among the grass chasing a butterfly. A bright smile was drawn on the kid's face, showing happiness and complete innocence. Quinn wondered how long had it been since she had such a bright smile on her face.

Two knocks sounded on the door and it opened, revealing a white haired, bespectacled man in a gray suit. He was carrying a kit in his hand. He smiled at them and opened the door wider, revealing more people. Santana, Brittany, Kurt and Sebastian. Sebastian had a look on his face that put a smile on Quinn's. He was wearing glasses too.

"Hey, guys," she greeted. Then she nodded at Sebastian. "Good day, sir."

He laughed and shook his head. "Good day to you too, Madam," he replied before slinking to her bedside. He took her hand and bowed down to kiss the back of her it. "So, how're you feeling?"

"Like shit."

"Quinn!"

The blonde rolled her eyes and turned to Rachel. She frowned. Was that jealousy in her eyes? "What did I do now?"

Rachel stammered before huffing and crossing her arms over her chest. "Just stop talking and let the doctor check on you," she mumbled with a scowl. She gestured at the white-haired man. "This is Dr. Kelvin Costner. He treated your wounds with specific care and has been here for twelve hours, waiting for you to wake up. So has everyone actually," she added, throwing a momentary glare at Sebastian before looking away.

Dr. Costner stepped forward, taking Sebastian's place and smiled at her. "Hello, Miss Fabray," he initiated. She nodded at him in response. His smile widened. "Trust me, I don't wanna do this either. But as a doctor, I have to. So," he turned to the crowd and clapped his hands together, "you folks will have to skedaddle so I can check on Quinn, except Miss Berry here."

"What? Why?" Quinn asked before Santana could.

He looked down at her with a curious expression and cleared his throat. "Well, I thought Miss Berry here was…someone close to you. Perhaps your girlfriend?" he said warily.

Quinn's eyes widened and she nearly choked on the air. "What? No," she denied quickly. Rachel had a nervous smile on her face as well. Quinn gestured wildly in the air as she said, "We-we broke up like four years ago so-so no, we're not girlfriends."

"Oh." Dr. Costner's eyes were wider as he realized his mistake. "Well, do you want Miss Berry to accompany you?"

The injured bodyguard spluttered and coughed and spluttered again before she looked at Rachel with wide eyes and saw the hopeful look on her face. Quinn opened her mouth and gulped before looking towards her audience, all sporting identical amused looks on their faces. Quinn groaned inwardly and cursed herself for being such a weakling just because she was injured. What had she become?

She finally turned to the doctor and muttered, "I don't…I don't feel really comfortable…having her – anyone, really – see me in a state of undress."

She knew that it might hurt Rachel but it was the truth. She wasn't comfortable with anyone seeing her almost naked now, regardless of the bandages all over her. She just wasn't comfortable. She kept her eyes on the doctor when Rachel burst.

"What? It's nothing I haven't seen before!"

Santana snorted, earning a glare from Quinn and a nudge from Kurt. Quinn's face was fiery red right now and Rachel seemed to have realized her outburst and blushed. She gulped and took a deep breath, trying to reword her sentence. The doctor watched her expectantly, his mouth twitching as if trying to not laugh.

Rachel sputtered, trying to find a good excuse to stay but couldn't. She just bowed her head in defeat and sighed. She turned to Quinn with a forlorn look and Quinn nearly dissolved and told the doctor to let her stay. But she didn't.

When they were out the door, Dr. Costner put on white gloves and opened his toolkit. He gestured at the blonde and cleared his throat.

"Do you want to do it yourself or do you want me to undress you?" he asked, appearing very professional and without an ounce of discomfort. Guess that's how doctors were now.

Her hands flew to her pajama buttons and she smiled tightly at him. "I'll do it."

He nodded. When she was done, he pulled it open further, revealing her body to him. She thanked whoever it was that helped her had put her in a fresh, new bra. His hands steadily unwrapped the dressing on her stomach and arm before peeling off the gauze on her shoulder.

She hissed when she finally saw the sewn gashes. These certainly were nasty. Those brutes certainly weren't playing a fool when they attacked her. Air invaded the wounds and she clenched her jaw against the pain. She begged silently for the doctor to be quick so she could feel a tad more comfortable again.

He checked the wounds, prodding them and applying disinfectant on them before he covered them with new bandages and gauze. He taped the gauze tightly before motioning for her to button her pajama shirt. He gave her two pain pills from an orange bottle on the bedside table then sat down on the chair, jotting down notes in a chart.

"Those are very nasty gashes," he began and she rolled her eyes, refraining from snapping at him. "I was honestly very shocked when I saw them. They're gonna take more than usual to heal, mind you."

"How long?" she asked.

He calculated it in his mind and released a breath. "Probably around a month if there are no complications such as infections or something other than that. We can't be too sure." He stood up and started placing everything back into his kit. "I'll be back once every week to check on your wounds so you better get used to it. And make sure to not let water touch them. Bandages are waterproof so don't worry. I've already written your medications and asked Miss Berry to fetch them for you. Instructions are in the drawer on the bedside table, so take a look." Then he bowed slightly and said, "Enjoy your day, Miss Fabray."

* * *

Rachel had been incapable of speaking as Karofsky drove her and Sam home. She didn't know where the rest of them were, and despite Rachel's demands for him to stay and wait for them, he drove away. Apparently, Quinn had left him instructions to drive her home and disregard her companions if the situation demanded it.

She managed to pace the floor for thirty-seven minutes before the front door slammed open and footsteps came marching into the living room. Santana, Brittany and Kurt were the first faces she saw and she literally threw herself at them, despite Santana's distaste towards her. She only realized that the most important person she needed to see wasn't there when she searched among the faces in the living room.

Her mouth opened and closed for a few times. Almost all of them had a look on their faces that answered her question with the exception of Azimio and a few other guards. She still had to ask anyway.

"Where's…where's Quinn?" she asked with a nervous laugh. No one verbally responded and she turned to the Latina, who always had something to say. "Santana, where's Quinn?"

Santana swallowed and crossed her arms over her chest, shifting on her feet. "Trust me, I want to know as bad as you do." Her voice was barely a whisper. She sat down on the armchair and ran her hand through her hair.

Rachel's mouth dropped open. Her heart felt like it'd been torn to pieces. What? She stumbled back a few steps and she would have dropped onto her ass if it weren't for Sam, who caught her at the last second. Brittany was barely keeping her tears down and Puck was scuffing the floor, looking at the door every now and then as if Quinn was just going to saunter in any second with that smug look on her face.

Everyone was worried, even Azimio.

Rachel had settled down on the sofa, staring blankly into the space. The security team had already dispersed and went to do their respective jobs. Puck was walking back and forth under the archway leading to the front door. Sam was leaning against the wall with his hands in his pockets.

For once, she didn't hear an argument from anyone. There wasn't a sound except for Brittany's sniffles.

Rachel had no idea how long she'd sat there. Every part of her was numb when a walkie-talkie crackled, snatching their attention. Puck took it out from his back pocket and listened to the guard at the gate talk.

"There's a man out here. He claimed that he has someone of utmost importance in urgent need of medical attention in his car. Do I let him in?"

"Is it Quinn?" Rachel asked loudly.

Puck glanced at her before he talked, "Put him on."

"This is Sebastian Smythe. I don't know who I'm talking to but I know this is the Berry mansion. Quinn Fabray is in the back of my car,  _bleeding_. Let me the fuck in before I run these goddamn gates down," an angry voice came through.

When the line was passed back to the guard, Puck ordered him to let the guest through. At that point, Rachel was already at the front door, anticipating Quinn anxiously. Soon, a silver car drove up the driveway in full speed and skidded around the fountain and stopped in front of them. The driver's door opened to reveal the bomb guy. Her mood dampened – not that it was good before – but she kept it to herself.

Quinn was her priority now.

The bomb guy – Sebastian, to her understanding – reached in the backseat and she waited, sweat already forming on her forehead when he seemed to be struggling. People who were unconscious were usually deadweights. Was Quinn unconscious now? She walked down a couple of steps and waited as Sam and Puck helped Sebastian.

They finally got her out and an audible whimper escaped her throat when she saw Quinn. Her head was hanging limply over Sebastian's forearm. Her eyes were closed and there was blood all over her. There was a resounding gasp behind her. She hurried after the men as they hastened into the mansion.

"Bring her to the guest room next to my bedroom," Rachel said. It seemed to be the only thing she could say right now.

As everybody went upstairs, Sebastian asked, "Have you called a doctor?"

Rachel's eyes widened. Her heart beat faster as she fumbled for her phone but Kurt cut in, "Yes, I've called the doctor. Dr. Costner will be here in twenty."

Rachel made a note to thank Kurt later. She opened the door to the guest room and watched as they deposited Quinn onto the bed. The blanket was long forgotten on the floor as they watched Quinn breathing shallowly for awhile.

"We need to stop her bleeding," Santana voiced, channeling into her nursing mode. She had minored in nursing during college. "All of you, leave. I'll take care of her."

"I want to help," Rachel interjected.

Santana huffed and rolled up her sleeves. "Fine. Brittany and Berry get to stay. You dudes need to get the hell out." The guys shuffled out the room reluctantly. Then Santana settled into her leader mode and began barking orders at them to fetch wet towels and the first aid kit.

Dr. Costner arrived just as Santana finished cleaning the wound on Quinn's stomach. He nodded in appraisal when he saw the job she'd done. Then he began to tend to the wounds with a more practiced and precise care. Rachel was blurry through the process, just worrying about Quinn's wellbeing.

She didn't know how long it had been when Dr. Costner finally applied bandages to the wounds. She didn't know how long it took them to dress her in fresh clothes. She did know how long she had stayed at Quinn's bedside before she had awakened

Six hours. Six hours without sleep or food. Six hours of her imagination running rampant. Six hours of fearing that Quinn would just fade away. Six hours of plain terror about what was going to happen.

She'd made a lot of decisions in six hours. She decided that she would really do all she could to salvage their destroyed relationship. She decided that she also had to respect Quinn's boundaries. She'd decided that she would thank Quinn with all she had when she woke up. And she  _would_. Rachel knew she would.

Sebastian had refused to leave, which only agitated Rachel more. He obviously noticed her glares but he didn't care.

They had all taken turns, checking to see if Quinn had finally woken up; and she finally did and  _god_ , Quinn's insistence on getting out of bed added more to her agitation and concern. She  _knew_  why Quinn was being so cold and distant and stubborn. But that didn't excuse anything. So she snapped. She was glad that she still had it in her to force Quinn to obey her.

Now, they stood outside the door as Dr. Costner checked on Quinn. She leaned against the wall next to the door, one of her legs against the wall and her arms crossed over her torso. She spent the entire time glaring at Sebastian, which the guy pointedly ignored. She knew she was letting jealousy consume her mind. She knew instead of hating him, she should thank him for bringing Quinn back. She knew all this; but really, she just  _couldn't_  help it.

"Will you please stop staring at me like I did something despicable?" Sebastian finally snapped, returning her glare.

She huffed. "Who knows what you've done?" she muttered under her breath, shifting her gaze to the carpeted floor.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Oops.

She sighed and looked back at him. "It means you're a stranger to me. I don't know you. And frankly, neither does Quinn. You might act all kind and courteous, but who knows what you did or what you're going to do?"

Sebastian stepped away from the wall and clenched his jaw. "I brought her here, knowing that she should be brought to the hospital because I knew you guys needed to see her. I didn't even have an inkling of a perverted thought in my mind when I was driving her here. I was – still am – concerned with her safety. Also, what I'm going to do is none of your business."

"I don't believe you," Rachel retorted.

He let out a sardonic chuckle and shook his head. "You are so naïve, Miss Berry." His sarcastic grin vanished after. "I'll admit that I do have feelings for Quinn. But let me ask you, who  _wouldn't_?" She blinked at him. He raised a brow at her and nodded. "Glad you know that. So before you go all bitch town on me, you should really wield your jealousy on everyone that's met her before."

"What does that have to do with anything?"

"Oh doesn't it? You don't like me merely for the fact that I have feelings for Quinn and she's being friendlier to me than she is with you. And really, after this, I really would understand why."

"Mr. Smythe – "

"She still chose  _you_  over me," Sebastian cut in. She froze at his words, eyes wide and mouth hung open. "I asked her out and she shot me down. Of course, she didn't actually tell me that she's still crazily hung up on you. But I can see it in her eyes, alright?  _You_  manifested the pain in them.  _You_ made this happen. So excuse me, but if she's happy being friends with me, why can't you let her be?"

The hallway was stunned into silence. Everyone was watching the both of them, absorbing what was just said. Rachel was totally shocked into a speechless state. Her eyes stayed on Sebastian as she evaluated his words. Then he realized he was right. Quinn was happy being his friend. She'd repeatedly told her that there was nothing between them and Rachel didn't believe her. Suddenly, she wanted to smack herself on the forehead for being so stupid.

"Well, to be honest, it's not entirely Rachel's fault," Kurt interrupted warily.

Sebastian's eyes stayed on her as he replied, "I don't care. I only know Quinn. I don't know Miss Berry. So I'm standing on her side no matter what."

Kurt cleared his throat, rubbing his hands together. "Yeah, okay, we get that. But um…don't you think now is really not the appropriate time for an argument to occur? So why don't you at least make peace and let us hear the doctor's verdict?"

The door swung open at that moment and the doctor stepped out, closing the door behind him. He explained everything to them, then told them that Quinn had taken painkillers and was pretty fuzzy at the moment. Kurt followed him out to pay him for his services when the rest of them went back inside the room.

And dear lord, the painkillers sure were strong.

Quinn was mumbling gibberish for fifteen minutes before she finally gave in to sleep. All of them just stayed there, standing or sitting in separate corners in the room. Finally, they were able to look at her sleep in peace and not to worry about her whereabouts or safety for the moment.

And Rachel guessed, this was moment when Quinn's importance to everyone in the room was proven.


	10. salvation in progress

She lost her image with the team in a span of two weeks. And it was all because of everyone's fault. She had been injured. She had bandages around her. No big deal. She couldn't understand why everyone – Rachel, Santana, Brittany, Puck, Sam, Sebastian, even Kurt – was making such a big deal out of it.

She wasn't allowed out of bed for the first four days. Finally, she put her foot down and threatened them with a hunger strike if they wouldn't allow her to go back to the pool house and survey the recordings of the security cameras on her laptop. She regretted the decision as soon as she saw the wheelchair Puck rolled in.

"I can walk!"

"You're still sitting in the wheelchair," Rachel said. When Quinn wanted to argue, Rachel gave her a glare that shut her mouth. "You can go back to the pool house. But you're going back in the wheelchair. At least for today."

Honestly, Quinn wasn't handicapped! She could walk perfectly. It wasn't her legs that were injured, it was her upper body! Who used the upper body to  _walk_? She was ready to point it out when Santana stuck her fingers in her ears, indicating that she didn't want to hear any arguments.

Quinn was extremely unhappy at the arrangements. She had been through much worse when she was in the army. This was a piece of cake.

"I've been through much worse in the army," she said as Sam deposited her on the bed and offered her the laptop.

Her friends – for two weeks, they were her mortal enemies – surrounded her, with the exclusion of Sebastian and Kurt, who were busy with their work duties. They each offered their own signature glare but she refused to back down.

"I've been shot and stabbed before, okay? I've even been in a crash! This is nothing!" she argued.

"Yeah well, this is  _not_  the army," Rachel voiced. "You're on my property. You're under my employment. You went through all of that to save me. I want you to take time to heal; as long as it takes. Puck and Sam can handle your job for now."

That was the thing; Quinn didn't trust Puck. She couldn't. Not for the time being. She still hadn't made her inquires with the store where he bought his cologne. She supposed she would just trust Sam, as inexperienced as he was.

Rachel routinely made her appearance every day for the next two weeks. Quinn tried hiding in the garage once, only to have Rachel storm in, smile at Karofsky, then drag the blonde out to the back and into the pool house. She lectured Quinn for thirty whole minutes, stating that the whole point of  _healing_  was to  _not_  wander around the house, exposing herself to the bacteria outside.

She was finally allowed out of the pool house after two weeks. She immediately gathered her team in the kitchen. They all looked tired and sloppy and she grimaced. God, what had become of them while she wasn't able to supervise them? Santana, being her annoying as fuck self, sat in the corner watching her.

"Did any of you manage to track prints on my jacket?" she asked them, but she was pointedly staring at Mike. They were quiet. " _Did you_?"

Azimio rolled his eyes. "Yes. We found a set of prints. They belong to Dustin Goolsby."

It felt like a bucket of cold water had been dumped over her. She turned to him abruptly with wide eyes. "Dustin Goolsby?" she repeated. Then she remembered. "Oh no, we ran into each other before the incident. He was my officer when I was in the army."

Azimio shrugged. "Well, that's the only set we found."

She nodded. "Did anything unusual happen when I wasn't around?" she said, gritting her teeth at the last three words. Santana snickered and Quinn turned to glare at her. She smirked at Quinn. The blonde rolled her eyes and turned back.

"Nope. Just the usual crew," Marley interjected. "I can bring you the visitors' log if you want."

Quinn smiled and nodded gratefully. "That'd be great. Thank you. So will anything special happen this week?"

"We're going to be onset every day. So if you don't feel like it, you can stay in bed," Azimio ended his statement with a smirk.

Quinn froze and her eyes locked with Azimio. "What do you mean?"

His smirk stayed as he said, "I think you know what I mean."

"Hey!" They turned to see that Santana had stood up and was standing next to Quinn against the island. "You don't get to talk shit like that, big guy." Azimio looked ready to defend himself but Santana held up a finger with an intimidating stare. "To be honest,  _none_  of you get to talk shit like that. If it weren't for sweet Quinn here fighting those grade-A assholes, you wouldn't be standing here breathing the same air as her. You picked your sorry asses up and fled the goddamn scene. You left her alone there and now you're blaming her for staying in bed?"

"If she was doing her job right, she wouldn't need to stay in bed for two freaking weeks," Azimio said with a laugh. "She's weak!"

"Excuse me?" This time, it wasn't Santana who said it but a new addition in the room, Rachel. She had her arms crossed and she was staring at Azimio, brow slightly raised. "Did I just hear you say that Quinn is _weak_?"

"Guys," Quinn interrupted. "Stop fighting. We need to get on set. So, skedaddle. Go prepare. I'll handle things." Rachel looked ready to protest but Quinn gave her a pointed look. "I said I'll handle it. Go prepare yourselves."

Rachel huffed and stormed away, leaving them to themselves again. Quinn took a deep breath and stepped closer to Azimio. "Just because I was injured and I wasn't here for two weeks doesn't mean I haven't been doing my job," she said lowly. "I don't care if you don't like my absence, I don't care if you and your team are displeased with me, but I'm still the head of this security team and I get the power. So you better _shut up_  before I do it for you."

Azimio clenched his jaw and pointed a finger at her. "I'm not afraid of you."

Her face contorted at the stench of his breath on her face. "I don't care. I'm still the boss. So now, be good and go prepare the cars and everything else. We move out in half an hour.

The man huffed and turned on his heels to face the team. "Alright, dweebs! You heard the boss! Go!" he ordered, clapping his hands a few times to emphasize his orders.

They scurried out of the room. Quinn stopped Marley on her way out. "I'd appreciate it if you could grab the log for me now so I can look at it while we wait for her highness to finish preparing," she said with an appreciative smile.

Marley nodded. "Yes, ma'am. And uh…don't mind Adams. He's a jerk like that," she added before heading out to follow Quinn's request.

Quinn laughed and glanced at the door Marley left through. "Please don't tell me you're attracted to that blue-eyed pack of innocence." She turned to Santana who was staring at her with a bored expression. "She's not your type."

"You don't know what my type is," Quinn replied, crossing her arms.

"Oh I know. Trust me, I know. I've seen you pick up girls more than I should and a majority of them are dwarfs with big nose and big brown eyes that just gross me out," Santana described with a teasing smile.

Quinn faltered. She set her jaw firmly and said, "Like you said, a  _majority_  of them. Doesn't mean I don't like tall girls with blue eyes. She's pretty."

Santana scoffed and moved to stand next to Quinn. "But, you will  _always_  love the midget. Isn't that right, Q?"

The blonde gave a self-depreciating smile and scuffed her toes against the tiles of the kitchen. "Don't remind me," she said. "Allow me to have my own fantasy once in awhile, Lopez."

"You  _are_  allowed fantasies. Just don't think they're real," Santana retorted. "Anyways, I gotta wake Britts up. I've always wanted to see what a filming location looks like. I heard their food is amazing." She smirked at Quinn before walking out to the foyer.

Quinn laughed and sat herself on the stool. She palmed the back of her jeans where her new gun was tucked away. Her old one hadn't been found; seemed like the attackers took it. She nodded to herself in assurance as her hand grazed the handle. She tapped her fingers on the island top, idly ticking away the moments. She'd been there for two minutes when her phone buzzed. She took it out and eyed the contact curiously.

 _Private number_.

She frowned and opened the text. Her eyes widened.

 _Seems like an army veteran can't cut it. Are you sure you're suited for this job?_   _Like I said, you can't protect her forever_.

She read the text repeatedly. Who the hell was this? How did they even get her number? She slipped down the stool and stormed out the back door, her phone in her hand. Marley was on her way to the kitchen and she grinned when she saw Quinn.

"Quinn! Here's the log," she said, handing it to Quinn.

The blonde offered a distracted smile and took the log with a grateful nod before storming past Marley and to the garage where everyone was gathered. She scanned the space and easily found Mike, the tech guy. She made a beeline towards him and he looked up from his laptop, surprised at her approach.

"What can I help you with?" he asked after a moment.

"Can you track a private number?" Quinn asked, offering her phone to him.

He took it and glanced at her before looking down at the text displayed on the screen. She watched as his posture stiffened and his Adam's apple moved as he swallowed. His eyes ran over the text a few more times before he looked back up at her with a serious expression on his face. He nodded.

"I'll do my best. I need time," he said, not waiting a moment to fish out some sort of wire. One side was inserted it into one of the USB ports of the laptop, the other end into her phone. "I'll have it tracked as soon as possible."

She nodded. "Thank you."

She swung around and went to Kurt, ignoring Sam and Puck's curious looks and Azimio's scowl. Kurt was speaking – or rather barking – into his Bluetooth earpiece as he scribbled and crossed and scribbled again and again on his clipboard. She tapped his shoulder and he turned around to face her. He held up a hand but she shook her head insistently.

 _Urgent_ , she mouthed.

He frowned at her and sighed, telling whomever he was speaking to that he would call back as he directed his full attention to her. "What is it?"

"I don't think it's safe for Rachel to go onset today," she whispered. He looked ready to protest. "I just got a text from a private number warning me that I can't protect her forever. Just like the letter I got last time when I moved here."

"Wait, what letter?" he said with narrowed eyes.

She stammered and then waved her hands dismissively. "Doesn't matter. What matters now is the text. For two weeks there was nothing, and now we receive a text  _today_. They obviously know that I'm ready to go and we're going onset."

"Look, even if I agree with you, the producers won't agree to it. The film has gone over budget because Rachel's been skipping days over the past two weeks to take care of you. She  _needs_  to go today, tomorrow, and the day after tomorrow and so on to get this movie filmed as quickly as possible. We can't afford to pay for her absence anymore."

"She's in  _danger_ ," Quinn stressed.

Kurt stared at her seriously. "I  _know_  that. Don't you think I want her to stay at home until the damn perpetrator is captured? I do! But this industry is not as kind and forgiving as you think they are. They're cutthroat and all they want is money. They don't care." He sighed and she could see his grip on his clipboard tighten. "Look, all we can do now is tighten the security, okay? Keep a close watch on her. And we all know you offer the best security alone. So I suggest you stay with her throughout the entire filming process. I have to warn you though, it's going to be a long day today."

She kept her gaze on him as she ran through everything in her head. She surveyed the room to see the team watching them. Rachel was already in the car, a concerned look overtaking her features as she watched. Quinn's eyes lingered on her before she turned back to Kurt with a nod.

"Fine," she snapped. She didn't mention that her wounds hadn't fully healed. She didn't mention that she was still taking medications. She knew despite all of that, she would still offer her life to save Rachel's. "Get in the car. We're moving."

She rounded the sedan and slid in next to Karofsky. When she got the signal that they were all ready, she nodded at Karofsky. He returned it and began driving. She could hear Rachel and Kurt whispering at the back but she couldn't bring herself to care. She still had to think about the best way to secure the entire lot without leaving an external loophole, which quite frankly, was harder than anyone ever thought.

* * *

They've been onset for two hours. She kept getting updates via walkie-talkie from everyone in the team as they did their patrol. Puck was with her watching Rachel. She still wasn't confident enough in letting him be by himself.

Mike was still working on her phone. She had been checking with him between intervals to see if he had any progress with the number. Apparently, the perpetrator was very careful and an expert at hiding his trail. He had set up a safety system behind the number, with a string of codes that weren't going to be easily cracked

She explained the situation and new duty arrangements to her team during a quick briefing upon their arrival to the set. She kept a close eye on Puck while she spoke, but he seemed unfazed and his actions gave no indication that he was the man behind all of this.

The crackle from her walkie-talkie snapped her out from her line of thoughts and she listened to the usual update from one of the team. The moment the report was done, her name was shouted, echoing across the lot. She turned to see Dustin Goolsby approaching her with a huge grin on his face.

She smiled at him and was surprised when he engulfed her in an embrace. Once she got over her shock, she took a sniff and she tensed. He let go and grinned down at her, sticking his hands into his pockets. She disguised her suspicion with pure shock.

"I didn't know you were onset, sir," she said, her octave slightly higher than usual.

He laughed and waved his hand dismissively. "I said call me Dustin. I'm not your officer anymore," he reminded her. "I just wanna see what I missed when I wasn't around. I also had to write a check to replenish the budget status. Not that I'm complaining."

He  _was_  complaining. She could see the displeasure in his eyes and the edge in his voice told her he wasn't very happy with the news.

"So how are you, Quinn? I haven't seen you around in two weeks. I heard you were injured that night at the charity event. Yikes," he said, clucking his tongue. "Those guys need to be put behind bars for doing this and threatening a cast member on my set."

 _His_ set? Her eyes narrowed slightly but not enough to make him notice. "I'm good. I'm still walking and moving so I'm good."

He nodded with a tight smile and then gestured in the air. "Anyway, I gotta go. I have a meeting later to discuss my latest investment on a new estate. I'll talk to you if we run into each other, okay?" He didn't even wait for her reply before he walked away.

She watched him cautiously. He was absolutely different from the Dustin Goolsby she knew in Afghanistan. From what she remembered, he was never this…anxious about money. And he wasn't this possessive. There also seemed to be this aura around him that disconcerted her; she wondered how she didn't notice the last time they met. And also, how had she missed the scent of his cologne?

"Care to tell who that was?" Puck drawled from beside her. "You two look friendly."

"He was my officer when I was in Afghanistan." She finally turned to Puck from Dustin's disappearing figure. "He was the best officer I had within my four years of service."

He raised his brows and nodded. "Good for you. Hey, can I go and grab something? I'm starving." The words weren't out of his mouth when his stomach growled and Quinn laughed, nodding her approval.

When he was gone, she quickly scanned the area, trying to locate Santana. She didn't see her anywhere.  _Damn it_. She didn't have her phone with her. She looked around the set where Rachel, in uniform, was still filming a scene with a fake AK-47. Quinn had to admit that Rachel looked absolutely hot in that outfit. She shook her head to shake the thought out and jogged towards Kurt, trying to be as unnoticeable as she could.

"I need your phone," she whispered in his ear. He jumped and turned in surprise. "I need your phone," she repeated.

"Yeah well, you can at least tell me you're right here instead of jumping on me like a creep," he whispered back harshly as he offered his phone. "Here!"

She took it and dialed Santana's number. It took two rings for Santana to answer her phone. "What?"

"Where the hell are you?" she hissed.

"Eating. Brittany was hungry. We're heading back now though. What do you want?"

Quinn looked around to see if anybody was listening. When she was sure nobody was eavesdropping, she cupped her mouth with her hand and whispered, "I need you to call a cab and get out of here to go to the store in city."

"What store?"

"The cologne store. The one where Puck's cologne was sold."

There was a pause before a "Why?" came through the line.

"Turns out Puck isn't the only one wearing SG7." She licked her lips and closed her eyes in an attempt to block out the possible reality.  _Come on_ , Dustin was her officer. She was fond of him. She couldn't bear the thought of him doing something as terrible as this. "My officer from before, you know, Dustin Goolsby?" There was a hum of understanding. "I could smell it on him when he hugged me just now."

"So you're saying that your ex-officer, the one you kept praising about how nice and amazing he was, he uses that cologne too." She spun on her heels to see Santana and Brittany standing behind her. "Am I right, Q?"

Quinn nodded and managed a breathless "Yeah."

Santana hummed and leaned back on her heels. "Well, aren't things just getting more and more like  _Pretty Little Liars_ here? With the text and the letters and the attacks."

"It's not time for joking, Santana," Quinn gritted between her teeth. "Can you do this for me?"

Santana nodded and rolled her eyes. "This place is boring the hell out of me anyway. The food isn't really that good. I'm so firing the agent who told me that when I get back to DC."

Quinn raised her brow at Santana. "Do you really think this is relevant to our current situation?" she deadpanned.

"Whatever. I'm calling a cab. I'll call you if I get any news." Santana grabbed Brittany's hand and walked out. "I can handle this. Don't worry," she said without looking back.

Suddenly, Quinn was grateful that Santana decided to take a long-term visit here. She certainly was helpful in situations like these.

* * *

"Dustin Gordons. That was the alias he used when he bought the cologne. Or I think it is. But the young man's description of the buyer is pretty goddamn accurate. I don't know if he has super eyes or what but he said tall, neat haircut, an all-black suit, a Bluetooth earpiece and all that."

Quinn kept her eyes on Rachel. They had moved outdoors to film one of the scenes and the sun was shining right down on them. She was practically sweating all over. She whipped out her handkerchief and dabbed at her forehead.

"And uh…Puck?" she asked.

"Oh yeah, that guy. He hasn't been there since five months ago. I think he stopped using it. But Puck didn't disguise anything. He used his own name when he bought the cologne. Good thing they keep a logbook on the buyers or we'd be at a dead end again."

Quinn hummed and saved the new info in her phone. She put her phone back to her ear and shoved her free hand into her pocket. "Thanks for the help, S. I'll see what I can do."

"Wow, Quinn Fabray thanking me. Now isn't that a surprise?" Santana teased.

"I've been thanking you for my whole life, S," Quinn retorted, rolling her eyes in response. She caught Rachel's eyes from across the set as she was discussing something with Artie. Rachel smiled shyly at her which Quinn returned after a moment of hesitation. "Anyway, I gotta go. Job perks."

"Thank fuck I'm not involved in the blue collar department," Santana grumbled.

"Wait, this is blue collar?"

"Well, you're doing all the running and jumping and checking, right? While I'm just here relaxing with my dearest girlfriend."

Quinn frowned at her logic – if she could even call it logic. She shook her head and bade a quick goodbye before hanging up. Rachel was making a beeline towards her by the time she had looked back up from the notes saved in her phone. Quinn was a little shocked at how close Rachel had gotten while she wasn't looking.

Shit, she really had to up her game.

She tucked the phone into her pocket and took a small step back so she wouldn't be so close to Rachel. It was distracting and she certainly didn't need a distraction now. She mustered a small smile in Rachel's direction and then surveyed the surroundings, not meeting Rachel's eyes.

"So, how do you feel?" Quinn looked back to see the concern and curiosity written all over her face. Rachel raised her eyebrows, silently asking her to elaborate. "You know, you just got out of bed and you won't stay at the mansion to rest because you're a stubborn fuckhead…" Quinn's eyes widened, her brows shooting to the top of her forehead with surprise. Rachel realized her slip and she huffed, running her hand through her hair in frustration. "God, I've been spending too much time with Lopez."

Quinn smirked at the use of Santana's last name; A classic Santana trait was addressing people by their last names. "Clearly." A smile stretched on Rachel's lips when she saw the smirk on Quinn's face. Quinn uncrossed her arms and let them hang limply at her sides. "And if you're asking if I feel anything other than normal, then no. I'm perfectly fine."

Rachel's smile widened, initially pleased with the answer; but she needed reassurance. "Are you sure? 'Cause I couldn't help but notice this look on your face, like you were uncomfortable or something just now," she trailed off, realizing that she had just admitted to visually stalking Quinn.

The smirk on Quinn's face expanded into an appreciative smile. "I'm okay," she said, nodding at Rachel. "You don't have to worry. All you need to do now is go ahead and finish this film and let it wow everyone who watches it."

"You really believe in me that much?" Rachel asked with a tilt of her head.

"I believe in your talent." They both knew what that statement meant. It meant Quinn was still learning to trust Rachel. It meant Rachel's chance was still slim. It also meant Quinn still had deep feelings for Rachel. "I think Mr. Abrams wants you back." She pointed over Rachel's shoulder.

Rachel glanced over her shoulder and sure enough, Artie was there looking at her expectantly. She smiled at him with a nod before turning back around. She bit her lip and Quinn gulped.  _Stop biting your lip please_ , her mind whispered.  _Oh God, oh God_ , she chanted inwardly, clenching and unclenching her hands as she struggled to not reach out and grab Rachel and lay her lips on her.

Rachel hesitated and then asked, "Can I…can I hug you?" She watched as Quinn stiffened and she cleared her throat. "I mean, you don't have to but I just…I missed you and I've been trying to not kiss you ever since you came and I can't…I want to at least touch you."

The blonde stared at her and then sighed, defeated. Who was she to reject Rachel? She just couldn't. She smiled at her and opened her arms wide, wiggling her fingers. Rachel grinned and stepped into her embrace and  _oh dear God_.

Quinn had missed this. God, she had missed this for God knows how long and she felt so safe and peaceful with Rachel's arms around her. Her eyes watered but she pushed it back as she buried her face in Rachel's hair and subconsciously kissed the top of her head. And there it was; the Rachel Berry smell. It was indescribable, but it felt like heaven.

"I don't wanna let go," Rachel finally whimpered, burying her nose deeper into her neck and tightening her arms around the blonde's waist. This was so painful and yet so blissful all at the same time. "I don't wanna let go," she whimpered.

Quinn's heart tightened and soared at Rachel's words. Maybe that was the moment. She didn't know; except that suddenly she felt like she could relax and just let go of the rope that she had been holding onto for dear life and just fall in hopes that Rachel would catch her. If she wasn't wrong, this was what they called  _trust._

 _Do I trust her yet? Will she break my heart again?_ Her mind circled around these questions as she tightened her arms around Rachel.

The world came back to her as she opened her eyes; Artie's impatient face being the first thing she saw. Quinn released a breath before she slowly withdrew her arms from around Rachel and stepped back, tucking a strand of stray hair behind her ear.

"Artie is going to spit fire if you don't go now," she reminded the crestfallen brunette. "And I'll be here. Just like always," she added.

Rachel turned back to her and smiled. "Thank you, Quinn." She trotted back to the set and sat down in one of the chairs to let her makeup team, Kurt, fix her makeup.

Quinn's arms hung limply by her sides. She smoothed her palms over her thighs and watched as Rachel transformed into another woman and began reciting lines in front of the camera. The feeling of Rachel pressed against her body was lingering against her alabaster skin.

For once, Quinn didn't want to forget.

* * *

It was ten thirty in the evening when they finally reached the mansion. They parked the cars in the garage and slowly and tiredly made their way into the mansion to grab replenishments. Part of the security team had already bade goodnight, since they weren't on duty that evening. The other half were grumbling and hastening to make coffee.

Quinn saw the pool house lights were switched on and she trotted towards it with a frown. Who would be in the pool house if she weren't even there? Then she saw a tall figure with blonde hair dancing in the living room floor and her anxiety vanished. She smiled and opened the door to hear music flowing from the stereo. Brittany was dancing in the middle of the floor while Santana was on the sofa with a beer in hand, watching her girlfriend with a smile on her face.

They turned when they heard the door opened. Santana stood when she saw Quinn, and Brittany skipped towards her, engulfing her in a bear hug. Quinn laughed and hugged the girl back. She couldn't help but think that this wasn't as nice as hugging Rachel.

"We couldn't figure out how to turn on the TV," Santana said when they released each other.

Quinn rolled her eyes and showed them how to work the TV. Brittany squealed and jumped onto the couch with excitement, her eyes glued to the screen where SpongeBob was being his usual self, annoying Squidward. Quinn straightened and tilted her head toward the kitchen, silently asking Santana to join her there. Santana nodded and followed behind.

Quinn watched as Santana threw the can of beer into the garbage can. "You owe me a can," Quinn remarked.

"Relax, I bought it on my own. Puck and Sam warned me about how freaking stingy you are."

Quinn smiled and nodded. "So, what do you have for me?"

"Well, first, you can thank me,  _again_. Feels nice to hear you say it." Quinn rolled her eyes and Santana laughed. Abruptly, she turned serious as she fished a flash drive out from her pocket. "Here. I used my badge to make them get me a copy of their database. Everything was in it. I also ran the system on Dustin Goolsby. Everything's on there as well. I don't know what you usually do with this stuff, but I hope you can find whatever it is you're looking for."

The bodyguard took the flash drive and twirled it in her hand. "Thanks," she said. Santana smirked and looked ready to tease her when Quinn raised a finger to silence her. "Do you want coffee?"

"Nah," Santana rejected with a wave of her hands. "Me and Britts are going to sleep. I'm exhausted. You stay here and keep being the vampire you are. Don't become a panda though." She made a peace sign before telling Brittany that they were going to bed. Brittany waved goodbye at Quinn as they left.

Puck and Sam came in shortly after. Quinn was sitting at the island, nursing a can of beer. The boys wore matching grins on their faces and greeted with Quinn loudly before they took turns in the shower and readied for bed. By the time they were snoring their heads off, it was already twenty minutes past midnight.

Quinn looked down at the flash drive in her hand. Maybe this would prove Puck's innocence. Or maybe it would just exacerbate her suspicion of him.


	11. slipped

Four days passed in the blink of an eye. So far, nothing significant had happened except for the text. Mike tracked it to a prepaid phone, making the lead useless.

Who would get a prepaid phone if they weren't going to dispose of it after usage?

In between going onset and working on updating security measures, Quinn ran investigations on every clue she could find. She ran some background on Puck, because as close as they were, she had still missed four years. Sam's suspicion was heightening every second and she knew she would have to tell him eventually. For now, she'd just keep it on hold.

Dustin Goolsby was nowhere to be seen. She hadn't seen him since the day she had smelled the cologne on him. She didn't want to have to lay suspect on her ex-superior, but she had to.

It was her job.

It also Rachel's safety.

Despite Santana being her "boss", she had the Latina run errands for her; though they were more like discreet investigations. Santana always appeared reluctant and complained a lot, but she was willing to help because she knew how important this was to Quinn. Everything regarding Rachel Barbra Berry was important to Quinn.

Her…friendship with Rachel had improved slightly. The hug that day seemed to have formed a fragile bridge between them. They could relax slightly around each other. Just slightly. Quinn could look across the room and meet her eyes and actually feel good. She still remembered how it felt to have Rachel in her arms after four years of emptiness and longing. She remembered how great a relief it was when she finally had her in her arms, even if it was for only ten minutes.

Quinn was relieved that they had reached this point after their previous obstacle. She still couldn't fully trust Rachel yet, but she was getting there, and she hoped Rachel could trust her as well.

At that exact moment, at five minutes passed one in the morning on a Saturday, Quinn was leaning against her headboard with her laptop on her lap. She had the flash drive inserted into a USB port and she was reading through Puck and Goolsby's data for the umpteenth time since Santana had handed it over to her. She jotted down notes but they all seemed minor and unimportant. They were basically clean.

Her heart felt weighted with guilt over actually suspecting her best friend and her former officer; one of the rare officers who treated her as an equal instead of a weak woman. However, she refused to let guilt blind her rationality. She needed to think rationally and logically. She had to get things to  _make sense_.

Because nothing did.

Nothing made sense to Quinn.

She read through her notes once again, made more hypotheses, which she eventually invalidated, made inferences; she had come at this from all angles and still found no lead. The perpetrator was very precise with their plans. There wasn't a single fault found with the exception of the cologne.

Quinn shut her laptop and let out a groan. She needed fresh air, and she was going to get it no matter how late it was. She could probably find someone currently on shift and maybe have a talk with them. She didn't care. She just needed fresh air. She had been staring at that laptop for too long. She let out a breath and locked her laptop before she got out of bed and pulled on a sweater.

She paused at the front door and threw her head back to see Puck and Sam. They were sprawled on their respective mattresses, snoring like the loudest pigs to have ever existed. They were her best friends; she still couldn't believe she doubted one of them.

"Please don't let it be you. Please," she whispered brokenly as she stared at Puck's sleeping form before slipping out of the pool house.

She wrapped her arms around herself, as if the gesture could shield her from the cold air. She looked around her and slowly walked up the pathway to the back of the mansion. She could see that some guards were patrolling and she nodded to herself approvingly. They were actually doing their jobs. She raised her hand as a motion of peace when one of them turned to her with his flashlight. He nodded and continued on his way.

She rounded the mansion towards the fountain and sidelined to the yard, where green grass seemed to spread for miles marble statues stood in a neat arrangement. She stroked some of them on the heads as she walked forward, with no direction entirely.

Then she heard a rustle behind her.

Quinn's steps faltered slightly while her shoulders went tense. She cursed quietly for carelessly leaving her gun behind. She clenched her fists and shrugged inwardly. Guess she had to depend on her combat training then, despite her still healing injuries.

Quinn took careful steps, her ear trained on the complete silence, when a twig snapped and she swung around, ready to backhand whoever it was. She only just managed to stop mid-motion when she saw who the person was.

Rachel.

She put down her arms abruptly and let out a sigh of relief, slightly annoyed at the brunette for making her panic. Rachel let out her own gasp of relief and her wide eyes returned to their usual size, not that they were any smaller. The actress swallowed and wrapped her sweater tighter around her body.

Quinn stared at her with a frown. "Why are you here so late?"

Rachel raised a brow and Quinn could see the challenging glint in her eyes. "I could ask you the same question."

The blonde couldn't help but chuckle. Always the one to refuse to back down. "I needed some fresh air," she explained bluntly.

Rachel's eyes widened, apparently surprised that Quinn chose to be honest with her. She couldn't blame her. After all, they'd been circling around each other for a week and Quinn had been quite the excellent avoiding party. Quinn stifled a smile and turned back around to continue on her aimless journey. She could hear Rachel's hurrying footsteps behind her until they were strolling side by side.

"From what?" Rachel finally asked after a moment of silence.

Quinn clenched her fists behind her and pursed her lips. She didn't want to tell Rachel and she knew she shouldn't. She couldn't. Rachel saw Puck as a friend, even if Puck was being slightly hostile to her right now. The actress respected Puck for something and before their breakup they had been quite the honorary siblings.

Quinn clinched her jaw and gave her the half-truth, "From my mind."

The brunette frowned and she fingered the hem of her sweater, as if she was struggling to not touch something. Quinn was quite clear on what – or rather who – it was that Rachel was avoiding because she herself was doing the same thing with her fingers.

"Your mind?"

The blonde deflected the question. "You have a beautiful garden."

There was a scoff. "There's nothing but grass. And don't avoid the subject."

"Grass is a lot, Miss Berry, trust me. In Afghanistan, or any warzone really, there is not a single patch of grass. Just sand and dust all around. You'd be lucky to find a single living thing besides the soldiers. So yeah, I've come to appreciate grass." Quinn paused and then continued, "I just need a rest from thinking too much."

Rachel released a sigh. "Stop calling me that," she mumbled slowly, but loud enough for Quinn to hear.

"It's what an employee should call their employer," she said stiffly, knowing full well that was not what Rachel meant. "Ergo, it's what I shall call you."

She was putting a foot forward when Rachel grabbed her arm and pulled her back, spinning her around so they could see each other. Quinn stumbled back a little; shocked at the strength Rachel had and disappointed in her own unawareness. She blinked at the brunette when she saw her semi-glaring in her direction.

"Don't give me that look," Quinn finally said exasperatedly. "We've been through this before."

"Do I not have your trust yet?" Rachel asked bluntly.

Quinn, returning the favor, replied, "No."

A hurt look swept past Rachel's eyes but she quickly smothered it. Knowing her as well as she did, Quinn could still see it lingering. She wouldn't let it get to her. She should be honest with Rachel.

Rachel gulped and let out a desperate breath. She wrapped her arms tighter around herself, as if the action could comfort her. Quinn's heart clenched slightly. She didn't know her words would hurt her to this extent, but she refused to lose her composure. The brunette looked around her and then back to her with that look on her face again. She wanted Quinn's trust. She wanted it despite everything. She thought Quinn would at least trust a little after that hug.

The brunette looked around her and then back to her with that look on her face again. She wanted Quinn's trust. She wanted it despite everything. She thought Quinn would at least trust a little after that hug.

"Not even a little?" she asked quietly.

The blonde stared into Rachel's eyes and saw nothing but desperate hope and hurt. She took a deep breath. "A little, yes. But fully, no. Miss Berry, you don't trust me either, to be completely honest."

"But I do!" Rachel exclaimed, taking Quinn aback. She stepped forward and pointed at her own chest. "I do trust you. I trust you with my  _life_. I  _know_  deep down that you will help me, that you'll come when I need you. I  _know_ , Quinn."

Her bodyguard's brows furrowed, but not into a frown. It was something Quinn did when she came to a realization or when she was really sad. Rachel couldn't determine which this one was. She searched Quinn's eyes and saw a bit of both.

"Rachel," Quinn whispered brokenly.

Rachel's eyes squeezed shut at the sound of her name falling from Quinn's lips. She had yearned for it for so long, and it sounded beautiful. She was convinced that her name would never sound as good coming out of somebody else's mouth.

Suddenly, she felt hands on her arms and her eyes snapped open to see that Quinn was so much closer now. She could feel her breath on her forehead and her firm hands on her arms. Rachel felt slightly safe like this. Her breath shuddered and her eyes drifted down to Quinn's lips for a moment before she looked back into her hazel green eyes.

"I'm sorry, okay? But I…I just can't right now. I'm learning to, really. I'm learning to trust you; to trust everyone. And I just don't know who to trust anymore," her voice drifted off, not willing to let anything else out.

She couldn't tell her that Puck was probably the culprit behind all these shenanigans. She most definitely could not tell her that the one of the producers of her film might be behind them. She couldn't tell her that the two people she used to trust so much were possible perpetrators.

Rachel nodded and swallowed again. "I understand," she replied and stepped back. She couldn't stand being so near Quinn and not be able to kiss her. "This won't change anything, right?" she asked reluctantly.

Quinn frowned. "Change what?"

"We were…sort of friendly after that hug. And I don't want to go back to what we were before. Hostile and…angry," Rachel explained, struggling with her choice of words.

"Oh," Quinn muttered as she brushed a strand of hair behind her ear. "No, this won't change anything, Miss Berry."

Rachel's gaze hardened slightly. So they were back to that. She nodded and smiled sadly at Quinn before she turned and walked away.

Quinn silently watched as the woman she loved disappeared from her view, and into the mansion. She ran her hand through her hair in frustration. She was frustrated at herself. She was frustrated at everything. She felt as though she were hanging from a really thin thread just centimeters away from the ground, but the damn thread just wouldn't drop her off, and if the thread did drop her off, it would end in a painful collision.

She grunted loudly and stomped her feet, letting her frustration take over. She wanted to shoot herself for being so fucking stubborn and stupid and  _so freaking in love_. She wanted to go back to the army where she wouldn't have to think about it. She wanted to go back to when everything was simply a numb pain.

She lowered her knees and knelt on the grass, pressing the heels of her hands hard into her eyes. God, why did she have to be so fucking stuck? She breathed harshly – wheezed, really. She felt the cold wind whipping at her tauntingly. She felt as if the world was laughing at her.

Finally, the dam broke and she cried.

* * *

Rachel sat at the long table, waiting for the rest of the cast and crew to come in. She fingered the edge of the script's front page, staring at nothing. She kept replaying Quinn's words in her mind and the knot around her heart tightened every time she thought of them.

Kitty was sitting next to her chatting with Artie. The two of them seemed to be hitting it off quite well. She had tuned them out earlier on, choosing instead to focus on her own thoughts. She knew it was unhealthy; that it would probably do more harm than good, but she really couldn't help it.

The woman she was in love with found it hard to trust her, for Christ's sake.

Whatever Rachel had told Quinn last night was nothing but the truth. She really did trust Quinn with her life. She would willingly follow Quinn through hell because she knew Quinn would do anything to get her through safely. She also knew that whatever Quinn told her was true. She may not be a psychic, despite everything she thought in her foolish teenage years, but she could still tell when Quinn was lying or not.

Their four-year separation made Quinn feel more like a stranger to her at this point, though she knew Santana had been right in her opinion all along.

Quinn was in the  _army_. Rachel, despite her disinterest with the military and things alike, still knew that when you were in the freaking army, you learn that you can't really trust anybody. Because once you turned your back for even the slightest moment, someone would take the chance to stab you in it with no remorse.

God, Rachel just wanted Quinn to trust her. She wanted the blonde to stop addressing her so formally. She wanted what they had before everything went straight down from bliss to hell. She wanted it all. She wanted too much.

She was abruptly brought back to reality when someone smacked the tabletop. She looked up to see that everybody was already there with Dustin, the other producer Sugar Motta, and the writers standing at the head of the conference table. Rachel sighed and spun her chair to face them.

* * *

Quinn was poised alert the second she saw Dustin Goolsby approaching them from the Craft Service tent. She tensed and her hand went to her gun holster at an alarming rate. So far, her investigations on him hadn't helped him much.

She had learned that the year he retired from the army, he disappeared for thirteen months before reappearing as an extremely rich man who basically dabbled in every line of industry in the world. He also spoke extremely loudly regarding his support for women and homosexuals joining the army. She also found that he despised the entertainment industry. That managed to raise her suspicion at an alarming rate.

If he hated the entertainment industry, why would he invest so much in this movie?

He saw her standing by the trailer tent and smiled, raising his hand in greeting before going into the trailer tent. She moved closer to it, as though that would somehow allow her to better protect Rachel. Sam was with her this time while Puck was off patrolling.

She tried to listen to whatever was going on inside but she couldn't hear a damn thing. She sighed and flexed her fists while doing her best to resist walking into the trailer tent to keep an eye on her former officer. She couldn't help her protectiveness over Rachel even if she tried.

"So do you wanna tell me now?" Sam said, bringing her attention to him. She frowned and he shrugged. "I'm not blind, you know. I can see you acting all weird around Puckerman. I wanna know why."

She stared at him wide-eyed. She knew he had noticed, but she hadn't expected him to approach her about it so quickly. She blinked a couple of times as she attempted to find the right words and couldn't. Because really, there wasn't any good way to tell him that his best friend was a possible suspect.

And he definitely didn't need to hear that.

"I can't tell you," Quinn finally decided.

Sam didn't look all that surprised. He knew Quinn like the back of his hand. She always liked to be secretive to protect those around her. Her words, not his. He understood that she was doing what she thought was right.

He shook his head. "No, you can tell me. If you think you're protecting me by hiding things from me, you're wrong."

Quinn shook her head in response. "It's not just that, Sam. It's complicated."

"Then uncomplicate it."

"If only it were that easy," Quinn snapped. "Look, I know you wanna know, but please don't ask me until I know for sure because honestly, I'm not even sure that what I'm doing right now will result in something good or bad."

Good as in Puck was not the culprit.

Bad as in he was.

Either way, she still didn't know.

"I think I know what it's all about," Sam finally revealed and nodded slowly when he saw Quinn's stunned look. "I mean, like I said, I'm not dumb. I can see the look on your face whenever you look at him. And you kept acting so," he paused and then said, "off when you're around him." She kept silent. He sighed and scratched the back of his head. "I had my suspicions and I just kept wishing it wasn't true." He looked away and back to the front and quietly pleaded, "Please don't tell me you think Puck is behind this."

Quinn closed her eyes. She had her hands shoved into the back pockets of her slacks. Her thumb stroked the hilt of her gun, gaining some strange comfort from the gesture. Without her vision, she automatically depended on her ears. Everything she heard was sharper. The rustle of the grass. Someone jogging past. Props being moved. Everything.

When she opened them again, the sounds went slightly softer. Her posture was still tense as she answered, "I wish I could tell you that. I wish I could tell myself that. But sadly, I can't. Sam, I have been trying so hard to find any evidence that will lead me away from Puck. Believe me, I have."

She closed her mouth, not trusting herself to say anything else without letting a couple of tears fall. She wasn't made of steel, Goddamn it. The man they were talking about was her best friend. Quinn felt as though she had been pushed to the deepest corners of her life as she continued investigating, knowing that it was her best friend she was going on.

She gulped and continued, "So far, it's the cologne that kept me on him. And his...his hostility towards  _her_. I know he still doesn't really like her so far because of me. That sliver of dislike could be the tipping point of all of this. You also know that her safety is my priority. I will always prioritize her."

She could see him nodding and chuckling humorlessly. "So much for no longer caring, huh?" he said. It wasn't a question. It was a statement. Because she said that the second year she was in the army. "I understand though. I mean, I would've done the same for Mercedes."

She smiled at the mention of his girl back in Washington. "I'm glad you understand," she stated. "However, I have another suspect on my list. I can't tell you who, but he's above Puck on my list. So maybe Puck can be off the list soon, once I've found the clue."

Sam turned his head to her and he licked his lips before asking, "Can I help you?" She looked at him with a frown. "I know you've been asking for Santana's help, but everyone knows she is all talk and no action. She's just not that kind of a deal. All she does is order people around and bitch, which she is really good at. She sits behind a desk and she solves problems. Stuff like this though; sometimes we need something a little rough to get info. You feel me?"

Quinn considered his words and couldn't help but find some truth in it. "I still can't tell you who the other suspect is."

"I don't need to know."

"I can't let you get off the roster just like that. That would be favoritism and that's the last thing I need Azimio accusing me of right now." He nodded. "How about you keep an eye on Puck for me? Coax something – anything – out of him. Make sure he does nothing suspicious. If he does, report back to me immediately."

He smiled and nodded. "I can deal with that."

She returned the smile with a smaller one. "Thank you, Sam."

He laughed and reached over to punch her shoulder playfully. "I got your back, bro."

Quinn laughed and punched him back. "Best bro you ever had."

"That be right, brother!" he hooted with a grin.

* * *

A loud banging on Quinn's door awoke her, and she leaped out of bed, grabbing her gun. She stalked out of her bedroom and past a couple of groaning idiots half-asleep on the floor and opened the door, gun poised. Marley stood there, a look of panic on her face.

Quinn released a sigh of relief and lowered her firearm. She stood straight up and nodded at Marley. "What, Marley?"

"Someone…someone was…in Miss Berry's bedroom," Marley panted from exertion, forcing words out. "There's another letter. On her bed."

The blonde took off running, shooting pass Marley and charging in through the backdoor. She took the stairs two at a time and found everyone gathered at Rachel's door. She shouted, "What is everyone doing here? Don't you have a job? Search the goddamn property. Leave nothing unturned. Check the security video feed! Damn it, don't just stand here!"

The security team scrambled off at her loud authoritative voice, leaving Rachel, Santana, Brittany, Kurt and Azimio there. Marley was standing behind her, unsure if she should go. Quinn made a signal for her to stay to help her out. Puck and Sam were behind her, ready.

Quinn's eyes shifted to Sam and he inclined his head, indicating that Puck had been with him since they returned. She felt something akin to relief flood over her and she strode into the room, followed by the two men. She saw the letter unopened, sitting in the middle of the bed. She clenched her jaw and held her fists tightly, digging her fingernails into her palms.

They got into her bedroom as well. Under Quinn's watch, no less. Damn it, someone slipped into Rachel's fucking  _bedroom_  while she was on the property.

She couldn't believe she let her guard down. She'd been so tired from the lack of sleep last night and the talk with Sam and the investigations that she drifted off to sleep. She didn't think of making her usual nightly rounds before getting into bed. She smacked herself on the forehead multiple times, grunting and feeling oddly satisfied at the self-torture.

She kept smacking herself until someone stopped her. Someone had grabbed her wrists and gently pulled them down. Quinn gritted her teeth and opened her eyes to see Rachel in front of her, still holding her wrists. The brunette was staring at her with concern. She also noticed Santana and Brittany standing on her sides while Puck and Sam were watching her from next to the bed.

Rachel hesitated but still reached up to touch Quinn's face. Quinn sighed at the touch and unconsciously leaned into it. Rachel's thumb stroked her skin and she did nothing but stare at Quinn, waiting for a sign that she had calmed down.

Quinn took a shuddering breath and looked down at Rachel with a pained expression, which in turn pained Rachel. "They got into your  _bedroom_ , Rachel," she whispered in a strangled voice. She didn't bother using formality. She didn't have the time to know that she should be formal with Rachel. "I let them get into your bedroom. I failed at protecting you."

The actress shook her head and didn't stop stroking Quinn's face. "You didn't fail, Quinn. You didn't," she argued. "That scumbag found a way to slip past your amazing security measures. It's not your fault."

"It is, Rachel," Quinn insisted and pulled away. She started pacing the floor. "If I didn't fall asleep, if I did my nightly rounds, they wouldn't have gotten in in the first place. I  _let_  them in."

"You didn't." Rachel took a step forward and stopped Quinn. She spun the blonde around to face her. "You. Didn't," she enunciated.

Quinn's eyes caught movement at the door and saw a black shadow before it moved away. Her eyes widened. Shit. She lunged at the door and had her gun out of the holster. She looked back at her team and a startled Rachel.

"They're still here. Get the doors locked. Block every entrance and exit," she barked out her orders before rushing out after the shadow. It had just slipped past the corner as she came around and she hurried after it. She stood there, staring at an empty corridor with four doors on each side. She gulped and treaded the floor, trying to catch something unusual. "You can run, but you can't hide," she said, hoping that the person could hear her. "You should just come out and be done with it."

She heard a faint chuckle and she swung around, gun at the ready. "That phrase is getting old, Q."

She narrowed her eyes. "What?"

One of the doors opened a man wearing a hoodie came out. It was definitely a man. He had a tall build and she could see he worked out from the tight fit of his outfit. He had a black mask on so she couldn't see him in the dark. He was holding a knife. A military knife. Her eyes snapped back to his head.

"Dustin?" she whispered.

He lunged and she was pushed on her back. She grunted at the force of the push when he suddenly straddled her, landing on her stomach. She huffed and coughed but fought him as he tried to slash her with the knife. He plunged it and she moved her face so it would stick to the wooden floor under the carpet. But it didn't stick. Or it did but he was so strong that he managed to snag it out. He continued his assault, Quinn barely dodging him once more as the blade managed to graze her brow.

Her neck hurt from the sudden movement but she ignored it. He grabbed her throat tightly and she gripped his arm with both her hands, trying to get him off. But he wouldn't relent. Fuck, he was so fucking strong. He stabbed again and this time, he managed to stab the knife into the outer side of her ear, just inside her pinnacle.

She howled in pain, the sudden burst of adrenaline giving her the strength to push him off. He staggered off and landed on his back. She was in too much pain to care about him anymore. She rolled over to her side and grabbed her ear, howling loudly. She was actually crying at the pain. She honestly hadn't felt pain like this since she had been stabbed in the army. The men she had fought in the theater hadn't even managed to cause the level of pain she was currently in.

She was turned over and the man was there again with the knife. She saw his eyes; nothing but deep pools of savagery and cruelty. Before he could do anything, he was abruptly pulled off of her. Puck now stood over her, sparring with the hooded man. The man took a chance to run off after delivering a sucker punch to Puck. Puck chased after the man, disappearing from sight just moments before she heard the crash of a window with her other ear.

There was nothing and then he came rushing back. The look of panic on his face was remarkable. He tugged a napkin out of his pocket and moved her hand away to cover her ear with it. Then he put her hand back, pressing it to the napkin.

"Damn it, Quinn. Twice in four weeks. You have shit luck," he groaned. She couldn't really hear him but she could make out the words. "Come on, let's get you to a doctor."

She felt like fire ants were eating away at her ear. A motherfucking colony of fire ants. She turned her head into his chest and choked on her own tears and pain. Fuck, could he please just put her out so she wouldn't have to feel like this? She felt herself lifted. She didn't know what was going on anymore. All she could hear was the pumping of her own blood and the buzzing in her head and  _fuck_ , she just wanted to cut her ear off at this point.

"Knock me out," she whispered and she could feel a pause in his movements. She felt his chest rumbled and she guessed he was asking what. She repeated, "Knock me out. Please."

"…crazy," she caught with her good ear.

"Please," she begged and moaned in pain. She moaned for a long time. Suddenly, she felt someone turning her head and she got a fuzzy image of her in the air and Rachel's frantic face and the tears rolling down her cheeks. She noticed that Santana's eyes were red too. Brittany was openly crying while Kurt was biting his nails and wincing as if he couldn't bear the image. Then she wondered how bad she looked right now. "Knock me out, Puck," she managed.

"No," he said loud enough for her to hear.

She turned away from Rachel and landed a flimsy punch on his chest. "Goddamn it, just sedate me or do  _something_  because this is too fucking much of a pain to be conscious for."

Quinn looked up at him with watery eyes and he was looking down at her with a frown and he finally nodded. He put her down and then clenched his fist before surging forward. She could see Rachel trying to stop him before she blacked out.

Finally.


	12. loss

Dr. Costner was waiting at the emergency entrance when they arrived. He had nurses and residents at the ready and a gurney prepared. They rushed towards the car as soon as it stopped.

Puck came out and opened the backdoor where Quinn was laying; her head resting on Rachel's lap, blood still dripping from her ear. He helped the residents transfer Quinn onto the gurney, and together they pushed her into the ER. Rachel hurried after them, followed by Santana, Brittany and Kurt. Sam stayed behind to give any necessary information and to fill out the paperwork for Quinn's admittance.

They rolled her into an available bay and hooked her up to oxygen, various IV drips and some foreign wires. Dr. Costner took a closer look at Quinn and shook his head. He swung around to one of the nurses.

"Book the OR. She needs surgery immediately. This injury to her ear is very severe," he said calmly and turned to Rachel and her people. "I need to operate on Miss Fabray now. You can wait in the waiting room. Now, if you will excuse me." He walked out of the bay, followed by the nurses and residents rolling the gurney out.

One nurse, chart in hand, stayed behind to address the awaiting group. "Please follow me," she said. They followed her to an elevator, and then on to a waiting room a couple of floors up. There was a coffee table in the middle of the room with a few rows of chairs around it, and a vending machine in the corner. "You can wait here while Dr. Costner performs the operation on Miss Fabray. The OR's down the hall. The doctor will come to you as soon as he's done." Then she walked out.

Rachel collapsed onto a chair and clawed her fingers through her messy hair. She was in her gym clothes. Tears were rolling freely down her cheeks. She sniffled and choked on her tears. Brittany sat beside her and wrapped a consoling arm around her, whispering soothing words into her ear.

"It's my fault," Rachel whimpered. Brittany began shaking her head but Rachel insisted, "She wouldn't be here like this if she hadn't been trying to protect me."

"It's her job, Rach," Brittany whispered. "She is supposed to protect you."

Rachel sobbed harder into her hands. "Exactly!" she exclaimed. "I said I didn't want a bodyguard, but Kurt insisted. So I got one, and it ended up being her, and I just…she's suffered so much damage since she's been here."

"You wouldn't be safe if you didn't have a bodyguard," Kurt said.

"Well, now Quinn's not safe!" Rachel said, almost yelling, glaring at Kurt with red eyes. "She's in there because she was protecting me. She could be deaf because of that wound. She didn't sign up for this!"

"She knew damn well what she signed up for the minute she took the job, Berry," Santana intervened. "Of course, she didn't know she signed up for you, but she knew she was going to be risking a lot by being a bodyguard. When she found out it was you, she knew that she wouldn't be risking 'a lot', she continued, using finger quotations for emphasis, "she knew she would risk it  _all_  for you."

"I don't want her to!"

"It's not for you to decide!" Santana snapped. "She would give her goddamn life for you. She wanted to do it. She decided to do it. It's her choice. We can't do anything but wish for her safety. Though given the aggression of that bastard and her current position, it's obviously not working out so well."

Rachel stared at Santana for a minute, mulling things over in her mind before she said quietly, "Well it'll be over if I decide to fire her."

Santana's eyes widened. Kurt pushed off the wall. Puck and Sam were watching her with wide eyes. Brittany was sitting next to her frozen. They were shocked into momentary silence from Rachel's statement.

"You wouldn't," Santana muttered.

"I can't risk losing her," Rachel stated, her voice cracking despite how definitive her tone was. "I'll fire her before this all goes too far. She can go back to her life.  _Safely_ ," she added. "I can take not seeing her. I can take us parting forever. But I  _cannot_  handle losing her literally. I cannot handle her being six feet under. I cannot handle her being fatally injured."

The atmosphere was chilly and stiff as they stared at Rachel. She was gazing blankly into the air, looking ragged and tired. Kurt swallowed at the sight. He had not seen Rachel this miserable in four years ago. His heart ached for her.

"I just can't," Rachel whispered.

Santana took a sharp breath as she took a step closer to Rachel. She hesitated before kneeling down in front of Rachel. She looked up at her and frowned.

"Even if you fire her," she started, "she's gonna find ways to sneak back in. She's gonna find ways to protect you, near you or far from you. She's not gonna give up until she's sure you're safe. Quinn Fabray is stubborn like that. Quinn Fabray  _loves_  you like that."

Rachel tensed. "You don't know that."

"I do," Santana answered quickly. "Believe me, I do." There was a pause before she chuckled humorlessly. "You know, I hated you. I hated you for the emotional damage you put on Quinn. But, I never really bothered to put myself in your shoes. I think I understand now. Why you were scared, I mean. To have someone you love out there in a warzone," she drifted off, her eyes flickering to Brittany before she shook her head, "it's too scary."

The actress nodded. "Yeah, it was. It still is. I was angry with her and I couldn't handle the fear. I didn't want to sit at home anticipating the day someone in a uniform would knock on my door to give me bad news. The opportunity in LA was an incentive, I guess. For me to escape the fear and also to pursue my career."

"I'm still pissed at you for leaving for that opportunity," Santana said, but this time with a smile.

Rachel smiled back, albeit sadly. "It didn't help, if that's any comfort. I lived in fear every day for four years. I still…have nightmares about her dying in the combat zone or in the hospital. I have nightmares. I have daydreams. They absolutely tear me apart."

Kurt was just standing there, listening to Rachel pouring her heart out. He never knew about the nightmares. He didn't know about the fear. He knew about the broken heart. He had known she missed Quinn terribly, but he hadn't known about everything else. He suddenly found himself wondering if he'd been a good friend after all.

The Latina tucked a strand of stray hair behind her ear and cautiously reached out to take Rachel's hands in hers. "Well, now you're gonna be strong for Quinn. She needs you to be strong for her. You're gonna be your usual bossy self and make her stay in bed. You're not gonna fire her. Once she's healed, you're not gonna stop her from doing her job. Frankly, you can't because she's a stubborn bitch." Rachel laughed a little. "But most of all, you're gonna prove to her that you still love her."

Rachel brow twitched and she licked her lips. "Do you believe me?" Santana raised her brow in question. "Do you believe me when I say I love her?"

"Not at first, to be honest. But now," Santana squeezed her hand and nodded, "yeah."

Rachel reached out and wrapped her arms around Santana, burying her face into her hair. Brittany had to stifle a smile at the awkward face Santana was making. "Thank you," Rachel whispered. "I really needed that."

Santana pushed past the awkwardness and patted her back gently. "I know you did."

Footsteps echoed loudly down the hallway and everyone turned their attention towards the door as Dr. Costner entered, his blue scrubs spattered with blood. He was staring at Rachel, and his unreadable expression terrified her.

The group circled around the doctor with Rachel taking the spot directly in front of him. Brittany kept one arm circled around her waist, supporting her weight. "How is she, doctor?" she asked weakly.

"The stab, fortunately, didn't puncture any major vessels. It was pretty external, just inside the pinnacle, though the ear still suffered a certain amount of damage." He sighed. "I can't give you the exact number, but I can make a ballpark of it. I would estimate a loss of 20 to 25 percent of the hearing in her left ear. I've done as much as I can. It won't be an immediate loss; it will be gradual over the course of a few years."

"How many years?" Santana interrupted, her hand covering her mouth.

Dr. Costner's frown grew deeper and he cleared his throat. "No more than five. It could even be over the course of the next few weeks," he answered. "I know it's a short amount of time, considering her young age. However, she still has a significant amount of her hearing. It is going to start deteriorating now. For now, she will need to keep a bandage over her ear for the next week."

Rachel gulped and closed her eyes for a second before opening them again and saying, "I understand."

The doctor nodded and cleared his throat again. "Furthermore, I noticed she suffered some beating over her body as well." He gave each of them a look, waiting for an answer.

"The person who slashed Quinn last time was in my house. She was trying to catch him," Rachel explained in a whisper.

Dr. Costner shook his head. "Miss Berry, you have to understand that Miss Fabray had suffered a significant amount of damage not four weeks ago. I may have cleared her for work and action, but her wound's still in bound in stitches."

"Was it bad?" Rachel interrupted.

He sighed. "A couple of stitches ripped and some staples came out. I had to sew her back together. There was slight bleeding. The progress she made over the last three weeks is gone. She needs to stay in bed for another two weeks. She's strictly forbidden from any excessive activity such as running or jumping. She can walk but for no more than thirty minutes. In fact, I would recommend bed rest for at least two days before she does walk."

The brunette ran her hand over her face and sighed before nodding. "Okay, okay," she repeated. "Where – where is she, doctor?"

"She's being admitted into a room now for monitoring. I recommend she stay a week for observation before she goes home, followed by another week of bed rest," he said. "My resident will bring you to her. You can ask him anything further on your way there." He turned to one of his residents. "Alert me when she wakes up, Dr. White." Then he turned back and nodded with a smile before going on his other errands.

Dr. White nodded at them and motioned for them to follow him. There was a cramped elevator ride up to Quinn's floor, where the doctor led them to room 394 and opened the door. There Quinn lied. Hooked on multiple IV's and breathing with a ventilator. Rachel could barely stifle the gasp that threatened to escape from her throat.

"Only one of you is allowed to stay the night," the doctor said.

"Rachel should stay," Kurt said immediately. None of them protested. She gave him a grateful look and he nodded. "I'll call the set and tell them."

"Thank you, Kurt," she told him.

He kissed her on the forehead and nodded. "Get some sleep. You look awful," he said softly. He stood upright and stared at Quinn for a moment before walking out, already typing on his phone.

Santana stepped forward and took Quinn's hand in her own. She reached out to brush her hair back, careful to not touch the bandage over her damaged ear. She sighed and squeezed the blonde's hand and leaned down to kiss her forehead.

"You gotta stop worrying us like this, dumbass," she whispered before standing. She turned to Rachel. "Call us if anything happens, okay?" The other brunette nodded. She reached for Brittany's hand. "Come on, Britt. Let's go back and get some sleep."

Puck and Sam were the only ones left in the room with Rachel. They were standing on the far side of the room; as if taking one step forward would risk Quinn's life.

Puck clenched his fist, the one that had knocked Quinn out. He still remembered the painful sounds of Quinn moaning and grunting. He could still hear Quinn's voice in pain, begging him to knock her out because it was too painful and hard to bear. He couldn't imagine the kind of pain she was in. It was her freaking ear, man. Her ear. He swore to find the bastard that did this to her and stab both of his ears.

Sam stood next to him, both hands shoved into his pockets. He felt partly relieved and partly angered. He was relieved because it was now clear that Puck wasn't the culprit. His best friend did not do this. He was angered because of what happened to Quinn. He was angry that the real one behind this whole mess managed to slip past their extremely good security measures and got even a scratch on Quinn. He was angry that all of this had to happen to Quinn, who had literally just come back from the army and only wanted a little peace and quiet. He couldn't help but feel a little angry with Quinn herself, too.

He wanted to shake her awake and scream at her for being so goddamn stupid and naïve and so protective and just so fucking in love. She wouldn't be here, unconscious, if she wasn't so in love with the woman sitting right beside her. God, he couldn't bear losing her. Quinn had been with him through his ups and downs. She had been there for him when his dad passed away. She had been there two years ago when he broke up with a girl he had been in love with. She had always been  _there_  for him.

And he wanted to be  _here_  for Quinn now.

"Did you know I feel the same way Santana did for the past four years?" Puck said suddenly. Both heads turned to him. He was staring blankly at Rachel. Not glaring or anything, he just stared. "I didn't hate you, but I was  _so_  angry at you. At both of you really. I struggled to choose. You were both really good friends and I struggled."

"You chose to stay with her," she whispered for him.

He nodded. "I chose to stay with her. I blamed both of you for your fallout. You were both dumbasses." He certainly didn't choose to keep his mouth shut right now. "I understood that you were afraid but damn it, Berry, you  _knew_  how much she loved you," he hissed, pointing at Quinn. "And you still left her. For some stupid opportunity in LA."

"I know," Rachel replied.

"She wasn't any better either. I mean, she could've joined the Secret Service like Sam and I did but no, she chose to sign up for the freaking army and risk her goddamn life for four goddamn years. She was a dumbass too. Still is, actually."

"She is," Rachel agreed.

Puck reluctantly moved to the other side of the bed and looked down at Quinn. "When she came back, I actually thought she was finally going to get some peace and quiet." He chuckled at that thought, so did Rachel. "That turned out well."

He looked a moment longer before releasing a deep breath and walked towards the door. He paused and turned back to Rachel. "Just so you know, I believe you too." He offered her a smirk before walking out, followed by Sam, who didn't bother to say anything.

Rachel turned back to Quinn and sat down on the uncomfortable chair beside her, taking her hand and kissing it. She cupped Quinn's cheek with her hand and leaned her cheek against the unconscious woman's hand.

"You'll be okay, Quinn. I know you will."

* * *

She didn't know how long she slept for, but the curtains were open and the room was bright when she woke up. Rachel started in her chair and she looked around her. She finally saw Sam sitting in another chair on the other side of the bed, sipping on a carton of milk. He must've gotten it from the vending machine outside.

Rachel buried the heels of her palms into her eyes and groaned. Her back hurt from sleeping while sitting. She turned towards Quinn who was still asleep. The anesthesia still hadn't worn off, apparently. She stroked her thumb over Quinn's hand before letting it go and standing up.

Sam watched her stood up and told her, "Kurt got you some clothes and breakfast." He nodded towards the table next to Quinn's bed where the items were placed and kept on sipping his milk. "You should go change. Kurt needed to go to the set to settle some stuff with the producers and the director. They aren't very happy with you taking time off again and again."

She nodded and waved it away nonchalantly. "It's expected. I'll call Kurt and talk to him." She looked down at Quinn and then back to Sam. "Look after her while I change, okay?" He nodded with a salute.

She took the clothes from the table and headed into the bathroom. It was quaint. There was a sink with a mirror above it, a toilet opposite the sink and a small shower stall on the side.

She would just have to deal with this for now.

After she showered and changed, she came out to find that Sam was nowhere to be seen. She frowned and sat back down in the chair she had slept in earlier. The door opened and Sam came in with a cup of hot coffee.

He cleared his throat awkwardly and approached her to offer her the cup. "I picked up coffee for you. It's not the best but it's still…coffee," he finished and cleared his throat again before sitting on the chair opposite her.

She tried to restrain a small smile from spreading across her face. Sam was trying to be aloof yet caring at the same time. He obviously wasn't doing a good job at it. She muttered a quiet thank you and took her breakfast to the table on the other side of the room and sat down on the sofa there. She ate the sandwich despite finding it hard to stomach any food now. She drank the coffee and resisted the urge to spit it out.

It was awful, but she had to make do.

Rachel watched Quinn the whole time as she chewed and swallowed. The heaviness in her heart was growing by the second. She never thought things would get so bad. She thought it was just some asshole playing some pranks on her. But they obviously meant business if they had to plant a bomb and hire people to harm Quinn  _and then_  personally hurt her again.

She didn't know what she had done to deserve this. She didn't know what Quinn had done to deserve this. She wanted all of this to stop. She wanted to stop seeing Dr. Costner because of Quinn. She wanted a lot of things, but for now she just wanted it all to stop

Her social range wasn't wide. She didn't make a lot of friends. She wasn't one to make friends. She knew that working her line of business she was going to make enemies. People joined this line of business for fame. Their hunger for fame was huge and consuming. There was rarely anybody who joined for passion nowadays.

Her fame was growing as each day passed. The talk about this movie was going viral and she was now getting recognized on the streets more often than not. So it wasn't a surprise if someone, maybe even a colleague, would do something so extreme to eliminate her. Or she might have done something to anger someone extremely in the past.

She buried her face in her hands and exhaled harshly. She was completely confused and blurry and scared at this point. She couldn't concentrate on anything. She could barely keep down food. She was sure she was gonna throw up the sandwich later. She had no idea what she was supposed to do now. She knew she couldn't lose Quinn. She knew that if Quinn died because of this job, it would completely ruin her to the extent where she might do the extreme herself.

"Miss Berry?" She looked up to see Sam staring at her in curiosity and if she wasn't mistaken with that look in his eyes, concern. "Are you okay?"

She opened her mouth and closed it again. She didn't have the energy to lecture the three of them – Quinn, Puck and Sam – to stop calling her that again. Besides, it was obvious that they only listened to Quinn now. If she was calling Rachel that, they would call her that too. It was inevitable. She sighed and stood up, picking up the empty cup and plastic carton.

"I'm just gonna throw this and call Kurt," she said weakly and walked out. She discarded the trash and instantly called Kurt. She listened to the dial tone and breathed in relief when he picked up. "I know you're talking to Dustin and Artie and their partners. I know they're not happy."

"They're not." The man didn't even bother to lie. "They're in the office discussing what they're gonna do. I've explained the whole thing to them. I told them that the security team is incompetent if Quinn's not there to lead them. And now that she's lying in a hospital bed, we can't do anything. I won't risk your life without Quinn there to save it."

"Kurt," she cut in softly. He stopped in his rant. "I understand why they're unhappy. They have a right to be unhappy. Nobody has taken as many days off as I have. But I have a way to shut them up."

"What?"

"Tell them I will pay for whatever extra costs in the future until we wrap up," she said.

"Rachel! You'll probably go bankrupt for that!" Kurt exclaimed.

"No I won't," she replied. "I said extra costs. I didn't say everything. Extra costs mean irrelevant props and trailer replenishments and craft service and stuff like that. Besides, there's only a few scenes left to film and we're done. I don't think that'll cost much."

Kurt seemed to be taking a few seconds consider his options and her idea. "Okay," he finally relented. "Do whatever you want. You're the one with the money. Don't blame me if you go bankrupt."

"I'm willing to go bankrupt if it means Quinn will be safe at last," she murmured.

The other end of the line went silent. She could hear Kurt shuffling around here and there and then the unmistakable tinkle of music box in her trailer. It was like a lucky charm to her. It was a gift from Quinn on their third anniversary.

"Are you okay, Rachel?" Kurt queried quietly.

Rachel leaned back against the wall with one hand tucked behind her, the other holding the phone to her ear. She looked up at the ceiling and swallowed the lump in her throat. "I'm holding up as good as I can." She closed her eyes and breathed a few times before she opened them again. "I know I don't want to be in a hospital ever again if I can help it."

"I know, Rachel. I know."

"She's in there, Kurt. With a damaged ear and a battered body. I can't even imagine how she'll take the news that she's gonna lose her hearing."

"20 to 25 percent," Kurt said.

"She'll still lose it. I know she depends on her hearing a lot. Nobody wants to be damaged or have a somewhat disability, Kurt. Not you, not me," her voice drifted off and she said the next words quietly that Kurt had to strain to hear them. "Not her."

Kurt sighed. "Let's just be thankful that she's breathing. She's alive, Rachel. That's all that matters for now."

Rachel hummed and turned to look at the door. "I gotta get back inside. I'll talk to you later."

"I'll be there in a couple of hours."

She hung up and pocketed her phone. She took a deep bracing breath and opened the door slowly so it wouldn't creak. She could see Sam holding Quinn's hand, his head lying on top of their clasped hands. She couldn't see his face but his shoulders were shaking every now and then.

She swallowed and covered her mouth with her palm. She stepped out again and shut the door behind her. Her head landed against the wood with a silent thump. She slid down to the floor and drew up her knees. She wrapped her arms around her legs and lowered her head on the ridge. Tears rolled down her cheeks freely. She sobbed like a girl would when the love of her life was lying in a hospital bed. She cried like one would when her heart was on the brink of being torn apart. She let it all go.

"Damn it, Quinn," she whimpered and sobbed.

* * *

Sam sat on the chair while Rachel was out. He clenched and unclenched his jaw repeatedly. His fists were tight on his thighs. His eyes traced Quinn's fragile form on the bed. He was caught between shaking her awake and pulling her tight in his arms just to feel her breathing against him. He was caught between staying rational and rushing outside to find that bastard who did this.

He leaned forward stiffly in his chair and awkwardly gripped Quinn's hand. He kissed her knuckles and choked. He squeezed his eyes shut, willing the tears to stay behind his lids, willing every pore of his body to absorb it. He would not cry. He took a shuddering breath through his nose and he leaned his forehead against their clasped hands. He rocked back and forth in his chair, as if doing so would stop the waterworks from coming.

Try as he might, the dam broke and the tears came. He lay his head down with her hands against his cheek and he sobbed. He'd been holding it in for hours. He'd been fortifying a strong front in front of Puck, Santana and the others. He hardly said a word the entire morning. Everybody hardly said a word.

When Santana asked him to go to the hospital to watch Quinn and check on Rachel, he agreed without complaint. He knew Santana was set on finding the bastard and she wouldn't ever let anyone take it from her. Puck had accompanied Kurt to the set when they left. He said he couldn't handle seeing Quinn like this. Sam had only quietly nodded in agreement.

"I hate you," he whimpered, his head still down on the mattress. "I hate you, I hate you, I hate you," he rambled on. "Wake up. Now. Wake up."

* * *

Twenty minutes later, Rachel was numb and stiff on the floor. Her blank stare lingered on the white bland wall in front of her. Her focus was scattered. The tear tracks dried on her cheeks. Nurses who passed gasped at her. Some stared at her curiously. She would've thought sights like herself right now were commonplace in the hospital..

Apparently not.

She pulled herself onto her feet. She brushed her pants and opened the door again. Sam was now flipping through a magazine, acting nonchalant. It was as if what she saw just now had never happened. She cleared her throat to alert him of her presence. His head snapped up and she could see he cleaned up well. There was no sign of crying on his face. He was composed and collected.

She inwardly shook her head but put on a smile for him. A small one at that. He nodded back and went back to his magazine. She was just about to sit when she saw Quinn start to stir. She stood upright and stared. She swore she saw Quinn's eyes flicker. She reached out for her hand and watched.

A groan. Sam put down his magazine and stared at Quinn. The blonde, unaware of her anticipating spectators, rolled her head and groaned more. Her eyes flickered, her fingers twitched; those beautiful hazel-green eyes finally made their appearance as her lids lifted with effort. Rachel gasped and moved forward to take her hand while the other kept brushing her hair as Quinn got used to her surroundings.

Sam, knowing they needed time alone, went outside to get the doctors.

Quinn's eyes wandered the room before finally focusing in on Rachel's face looming above her. She took a second to appreciate the beauty she'd awaken to before coming to her senses. Her throat was dry as fuck. She gulped to moisten her throat slightly and croaked for water.

Rachel rushed to pour a glass of water from the jug and helped Quinn sit up before giving her the glass. It took Quinn a little effort to sit upright and relax against the pillows behind her. She drank the water appreciatively and let Rachel put it back down on the table.

Quinn surveyed around her again before her lips quirked slightly. "I think I'm done with doctors and medications for now," she remarked and a laugh escaped Rachel. Quinn smiled and she reached up to brush her hair, touching the gauze on her ear. She hissed in pain and she gingerly touched the gauze again. She huffed a humorless laugh and muttered, "Huh, guess it was all real."

The brunette sat back down, struggling with what to say. Just that moment, the door opened to Dr. Costner, followed by Dr. White and Sam. Dr. Costner pushed his glasses up his nose and smiled at Miss Fabray, though a little sympathetically.

"Good to see you, Miss Fabray," he greeted.

Quinn rolled her eyes and grunted at the pain the action had caused. "I can't say the same," she murmured and sighed. "So when can I get out?"

His eyes flicked to Rachel for a moment before he looked back to Quinn. "Not for another week, I'm afraid." He took the chart hanging at the end of bed and flicked through it. "You have sustained quite a few injuries, Miss Fabray. Your ear was stabbed, your stitches were ripped open. There was some internal bleeding but I've stopped it. I'm gonna have to keep you here for observation before I let you go."

The blonde stared at the doctor for a moment before she shook her head. "No."

"Yes," Rachel quickly cut in. She returned Quinn's glare with her own. "You're staying here for a week, in bed. You're not moving unless you have to use the bathroom. You're staying right here. And when you go home, you're staying in bed for another week."

"Wha – Miss Berry, that is ridiculous! I can walk fine, okay? There is nothing wrong with me." She looked back and forth between Rachel and Dr. Costner who was watching them with slight amusement. "Just get me out of here!"

"I'm afraid I can't do that," Dr. Costner apologized with a smile. "Miss Berry was right. You're going to stay in bed here for a week and then for another week back home. It speeds up your healing process. If you want to get back to your job without any more complications, you should do as I say."

Quinn gaped at them, then at Sam for help. All Sam could offer was a helpless shrug. She huffed and grumbled. None of her words were audible. Rachel was sure there were some really colorful words.

"Now, I have another matter to inform you of," he said gravely, his smile vanished.

"Just get it over with."

Rachel chewed her lower lip as she carefully watched Quinn's reaction to the doctor's prognosis. He didn't leave out anything. He spared no mercy and he kept on as Quinn's eyes gradually misted over. Her face was no longer angry, just vacant. Rachel knew that this wasn't a good sign.

Dr. Costner suggested a few options for her hearing, which wasn't much. Hearing aid. Just the term was enough to make Rachel's head hurt. He asked them to call him if they needed help, then he bade goodbye and left, leaving the three of them in the room.

Sam scuffed his shoe against the carpet as he waited for the explosion to come. Rachel was resisting the urge to take Quinn's hand. Quinn was merely sitting there, gauze over her ear, staring into space. She was quiet. She was immobile. The room was silent except for the sound of Sam's shoe scuffing on the carpet.

Quinn's throat clearing shattered the silence and she blinked. And blinked. And blinked. She cleared her throat again and reached out to take the glass and drank the water again. She put it back down and resumed staring into space.

"I...I need to be alone right now," she said, her voice fragile and weak. "Please," she added as a plea.

Rachel looked up at Sam and he was looking back at her, waiting for something. She nodded and stood up. She moved closer to Quinn and leaned down to kiss her forehead without hesitation. She cupped her cheek for a second before leaving the room with Sam.

She was sure she heard a sob when she closed the door.


	13. flawed

The day after that, Quinn was acting like nothing had happened. She was back to her witty self with the driest sense of humor. She refused to take meds even though she felt painful. She still took them in the end anyways.

"Quinn Fabray, if you do not take your medications, I will have Dr. Costner keep you in here for as long as it takes until you take them."

Apparently, the diva was back too.

Quinn had often pleaded with the doctor to release her over the following week. Each day the doctor was in, she would insist that she was fine and that she could function well and there was nothing wrong with her. But Dr. Costner was as stubborn as she was and only smiled at her before walking out, informing Rachel that she was okay but she still had to stay, which Rachel agreed upon.

It was as if Rachel was her manager now and she handled everything Quinn Fabray-related. If Rachel wasn't here – either she was still at home or on set – Santana or Sam would do the job for her. They'd give her a look that would shut her up, despite the fact that their looks weren't as effective as Rachel's was.

They still laughed. They still joked. They still chatted. They still bickered. Quinn's distrust in Puck had faded since the incident. She had slowly grown to trust Rachel, though not a lot. They were no longer arguing or shouting or crying because of each other.

In spite of all of these, they still noticed that the effects of the injury on her ear had slowly taken on Quinn. They had to speak louder so she could hear them. If they spoke a little too softly, she would not respond. She had refused any hearing aid options until it was needed. And she herself knew she already needed it.

Seems like she's gonna lose twenty to twenty five per cent of her hearing in the shortest length of time – which meant over the next few weeks.

During the nights, when they were all gone – Quinn insisted she needed some me-time since they were constantly there bothering her – she would lie in bed, staring at the ceiling. She would listen to muted sounds of footsteps outside. The quietness lingered around her, mocking her of her loneliness and current situation.

She would occasionally knock on the metal of her bed rack or slammed her palm on the wooden surface of the bedside table and she would breathe in relief when she could hear the sounds, even though they weren't as clear as they used to be. Then she would cry, releasing the sadness and the regret and the sorrow she'd been holding in since she woke up every morning.

She'd blame herself for being so careless. She'd blame herself for being so stupid. She'd blame herself for letting her guard down. She'd blame herself for everything.

And then morning came and she would be cool and happy and laughing. She would be her usual self and be a control freak. She would ask Puck or Sam for reports daily. She would ask Santana on whatever she'd find out – nothing, so far. She didn't tell them anything about Dustin Goolsby. She already  _knew_  it was Dustin Goolsby. And she made damn sure that she was gonna get back at him when she got out of the hospital.

Then Rachel would come after another day of filming with dinner. Quinn would then truly really smile for the first time of the day. Everyone – including Finn and Blaine, oddly – would gather in the room and they would chat about everything and anything. From the latest prank Ellen DeGeneres pulled on whoever guest star that day to whatever happened on set.

Quinn soon found that Finn really wasn't that bad of a guy. She was angry with him before because she thought he was dating Rachel and she was jealous. Yes, Quinn Fabray did get jealous. She was human, after all. Although he might not be as smart as the people she usually associate with, he often had ways to make people laugh unintentionally. Quinn knew that he carried feelings for Rachel – he told her as much. But he also knew that Rachel only loved her.

"Rachel told me," he said, smiling at her.

Maybe that was the moment when the grudge she had on him finally faded and she smiled back at him. A pure let's-be-friends smile.

The day she was released, she struggled to get out of bed. For she'd stayed in bed for the past week, she contracted what she would call "jelly legs". She wobbled and had to grip tightly onto Rachel and Santana's forearms to steady herself.

"See? Because you made me stay in bed I can't stand properly," she jokingly blamed Dr. Costner who was watching from behind.

He laughed and walked forward with chart in hand. "Well, you've been doing quite well. And I hope you will still consider the options of getting a hearing aid." Her grin faltered but stayed. "You are starting to lose your hearing now and it seems that the worst of the situation has taken toll. You will most likely lose your hearing over the next couple of weeks," he said. "I know I shouldn't burst your bubble, but I am your doctor and I also know your friends couldn't bring themselves to tell you that they have noticed the effects on you."

"I know," Quinn said and gulped. "I noticed it myself, actually. I was just…too afraid to face it." Her voice cracked and Rachel squeezed Quinn's hand. "Do you have pamphlets for this kind of things? I'm not really familiar with it."

Dr. Costner nodded with a smile. "I will have the nurse give you some pamphlets and offer you some precise details on it when you check out. I'll be over to your home to check on you. And remember, stay in bed. I have a spy at your house if you do anything against my orders." He winked at Rachel who mock saluted him.

Quinn rolled her eyes and inclined her head to indicate that she would. Then she cocked her head and smirked at the doctor. "You seem to have forgotten that I am a spy as well – well sort of." She shrugged.

He raised a teasing brow. "No you aren't. You're not gonna be in action for the next week. So get your bum warmed up because you ain't gonna move for another seven days."

"Fine," she grunted.

* * *

She certainly didn't need help getting into bed since she'd been in bed for so long. So she waved them off when they were crowding her, grabbing her arm and basically pulling her onto the bed. She growled at them and threw her head forward with a grunt.

"Stop pestering me, for Christ's sake. I can get into bed just fine. Just get out of my way," she grumbled and glared at whoever that protested, including Rachel. "I said I can do this. I'm not a freaking disabled person." She kept grumbling under her breath as she pulled the covers and climbed into it, pulling the covers over her again. "See? I'm perfectly fine."

Rachel sighed at Quinn's childish antics and moved forward, adjusting the blankets and sat next to her. "Okay, you're fine. Whatever. Now, do you need anything? Water? Food? I can fetch them for you before I go on set."

Quinn looked around her and then back at Rachel. "Where's my phone?"

"Not here."

"Rachel Barbra Berry, where is my phone?" Quinn enunciated each word warningly.

Rachel, as always, did not back down. Instead, she narrowed her eyes at the blonde and brushed her hair back. "Like I said, not here." When Quinn opened her mouth, Rachel pointed a finger at her. "Using my full name won't work either. You're not to use your phone until you've recovered which is not for another week."

"I have a job, woman. I need my phone to do my job," Quinn insisted. "Dr. Costner said I can't get out of bed. He didn't say I can't do my job in bed. I'm fully capable of working in bed. And get me my laptop for god's sake."

They glared at each other, but Quinn's glare was still better so Rachel blinked with a sigh. She turned back to see all of her friends watching both of them with identical amused expressions on their faces. Rachel rolled her eyes and waved her hand in the air as if the action could get them to do something. But they stood still.

Rachel huffed and stood up. "Watch her while I go get her stuff." She stalked out of the room, leaving a string of grumbles behind. Some of which involved the words "the most stubborn human being" and "I can't believe I'm actually doing this".

Santana swung back around with a smirk on face. Quinn raised an unamused brow at her. "Not even a month and you've already got her wrapped around your finger."

Quinn released a chuckle and shook her head. "I would think it's the other way around, actually," she replied, gesturing at her ear and then down her body.

The Latina's smirk dimmed slightly. She stepped forward and reached out to take her hand. "You're sure you're okay?" she asked softly.

The blonde nodded reassuringly, squeezing her hand back. "I'm fine. I'll be fine. In fact, I don't think anything can happen with me staying in bed for hours on end. And I have some pamphlets to go through. I also need some time alone," she added quietly, pleading Santana with her eyes to not ask further questions.

Santana understood. It was rare for her to not understand her best friend. So she nodded. "Okay. Britts and I have a movie date anyway," she said with a smile. Quinn grinned and nodded. "So I'm gonna go now. But call me if you need anything, okay?" She leaned down to kiss Quinn on her forehead before bidding goodbye, leaving with Brittany in tow.

Sam and Puck stayed behind. Kurt already left earlier to get everything ready to Rachel could go on time. They lingered at the doorway and Quinn stared at them with an amused smile.

"So which one of you is gonna stay?" Quinn asked. "She must have asked one of you to stay to look after me."

Sam grinned at Quinn's words. He kind of loved how Quinn knew what Rachel would do. "Actually, she didn't ask either of us to stay to look after you." She raised a skeptical brow. "She said and I quote 'Both of you know Quinn too well. You're gonna go soft on her if she ever gives you her signature puppy look. I'm not letting you two stay'."

Quinn laughed. "Then who did she ask?"

Rachel strode in at the exact moment, laptop and cellphone in both hands, with Marley Rose following her. Quinn's amused expression went to being surprised. Well, Marley Rose could do. Rachel had an annoyed look on her face as she put down Quinn's items on the bedside table.

"There, you happy now?" she more or less groaned.

Quinn smirked and nodded. "Very."

The brunette huffed and gestured at Marley who was standing at the bedpost with a sheepish look. "Miss Marley Rose here will be my spy while I'm gone. I trust that she will not let you do anything you aren't supposed to do." She looked at Marley with a raised brow and Marley nodded quickly, afraid that Rachel would blow up on her if she did not.

"We'll see about that," Quinn murmured under her breath which was still caught by Rachel.

Rachel huffed – again – and turned back to Marley. "You will look after her properly, right?" she queried, daring her to say no with her tone.

Marley nodded again. "Yes, ma'am, yes I will." She swallowed and passed an apologetic look at Quinn before looking back at Rachel.

"Good," Rachel approved and nodded. "As much as I love you, your puppy dog look won't work on me either so zip it." Quinn frowned and blushed slightly at the flippant love declaration. Rachel's phone rang and she glanced at it before backing up to Quinn. "I have to leave now. Kurt's calling again. Be good." She flashed a smile at Quinn before striding out, Puck and Sam in tow.

The front door slammed a couple seconds later, telling the two people in the bedroom that they were at last alone in the pool house. Marley remained standing at the bedpost, rocking back and forth on her heels, unsure what to do.

"I don't bite, y'know," Quinn drawled.

"Huh? What?" Marley clambered before getting back to her senses. "Oh! No, I'm just…not used to being alone with you and not having you ordering me around."

"Wow, you make sound like a tyrant," the blonde teased with a chuckle.

Marley's eyes widened and she frantically shook her head with her hands waving in the air wildly as if they could speak. "No, I mean…you're like my boss and I usually work on your orders and I'm not usually this free and I…oh my god I don't know what I'm doing." She buried her face in her hands in embarrassment.

Quinn chuckled. She couldn't help but adore how cute Marley's acting like right now. "Relax, I don't bite," Quinn repeated her previous sentiment. She gazed at Marley for a second longer and she decided that she would definitely try dating Marley if she wasn't in love with Rachel already – and if Marley was into girls. "Are you gay?" Shit. Quinn squeezed her eyes shut and mentally slapped herself. For god's sake, the morphine's making her delusional and crazy.

She could swear Marley's eyes couldn't have gone bigger. "No!" she quickly said, a little too loudly. She flinched at her own voice and cleared her throat. "I mean, no, I'm not gay. I mean, I'm like bisexual."

The blonde nodded and tilted her head. "You really  _are_  nervous," she commented quietly. "Am I really that scary?" Marley swallowed and gingerly nodded. Quinn sighed and shrugged. "Well, you have to forgive me. I'm from the army and you know, Azimio Adams is a big time asshole so I have to go tough on him, ergo on you guys too."

"It's okay," Marley replied with a friendly smile. "I'm glad you're tough on him. He could really be such a jerk sometimes."

"Try constantly," Quinn retorted dryly, rolling her eyes.

Marley laughed and nodded. "Yeah."

Quinn hummed and turned to her laptop. She gestured at it and smiled tightly at Marley. "Can you…" she drifted off and gestured at the device again. She hated this. She hated having to ask people for help on things she could usually do on her own. She just hated it.

The younger woman watched for a moment longer before the realization dawned upon her and she nodded, maneuvering around the bed to set up the laptop for Quinn. She plugged in the charger and gave Quinn a thumb up. Quinn offered a grateful smile before booting it on.

As they waited for the log on screen to come on, Quinn settled back in her bed. "I'm sorry for troubling you," Quinn muttered. "You could be out there on set, actually doing something but here you are, stuck with me."

Marley stared at her before she glanced at the chair next to the bed. She looked back at Quinn, asking silently for permission to sit. Quinn nodded and Marley sat down. She took a deep breath and shook her head. "I don't mind actually," she said with a small grin. "I mean, I'm kind of tired for the past week because you haven't been around and Azimio has no idea how tired he drives the entire team while he does absolutely nothing. And I can't argue with him because he might kick me off the team and I…I need this job."

Quinn raised her brow. "He's been torturing you guys," she said with a slight menace underneath her tone. She scoffed and shook her head in disbelief. "That son of a bitch is such an asshole."

"Yeah, so I was actually glad that Miss Berry chose me for this job, y'know. I mean, I get to do nothing for once and still get paid," she said with a little chuckle. "Not that I don't want to do my job. I'd just rather do it under your leadership than his," she added nervously.

"I'm sorry, what?" Quinn watched Marley in confusion. Shit. She had to learn to read lips now. She grimaced and groaned. "Guess I really have to go through the pamphlets later," she murmured and sighed.

"What?"

Quinn sighed again and motioned at her bandaged ear. "This ear of mine, it's slowly going to be nearly useless. Probably over the next couple of weeks." She shrugged helplessly. "Guess that's the price of trying to protect your boss."

"Oh," Marley muttered. "I have heard of the stab. I just didn't think it was that serious."

"Well, it's the ear. You can't really expect anything less," Quinn said weakly.

"I'm sorry. But I think you're still gonna do great." Quinn smiled at Marley gratefully. "Guess I have to speak louder for you to hear?" she said nervously.

The blonde typed in her password and successfully logged onto her computer. She turned to Marley with a nod as the security feed program loaded. She grinned teasingly. "You know, you need to stop being so nervous about me. I don't bite," she repeated. "You can talk to me like you talk to other people – just louder. I'm not Miss Fabray in here; on this bed. I'm just Quinn. You don't have to be so careful with your words."

Marley watched her warily. "Seriously?"

Quinn threw her head back and laughed. "Yes, seriously. Well, not on the field, of course. You still have to respect my authority when we're out there. I can't allow Azimio undermine me because I've gotten friendly with one of you but yeah, when we're alone, you can treat me like how you treat other people."

The other woman nodded in understanding and smiled at Quinn. "Thank you, Miss Fabray." Quinn looked away from the program and gave her a look. "Quinn," she corrected.

The blonde nodded with a smile. She turned back to the program and set it to a week ago – the time when they finally returned from the set and all hell broke loose – fast forwarded the feed and watched. "So has anything peculiar happened during my absence?"

"I would think Sam or Puck have reported to you if anything happened," Marley remarked skeptically.

Quinn smirked. This woman was picking up fast. She was already treating her as the same level as she was. "Well, considering Miss Berry is such a bossypant and practically manages what should be done with me for now, I would think not."

There was a laugh before she said, "Nothing peculiar happened. We did our rounds. I took the liberty of crashing in the living room of the mansion, in case anything happened. Even though Miss Berry insisted that I go home. But I just wanted to make sure and since you're not around, I thought I could do it for you."

"Did you guys check the security feed from that night?"

"Yes, and we just saw a black hooded figure just like last time when the pool house got broken into. There were no facial features or anything for us to scan in the database. So nada, nothing."

"This one?"

Marley leaned forward and watched with Quinn. She nodded. "Yeah, that one."

It was half an hour before Quinn went to bed. She scolded herself quietly again for not making her nightly rounds. She was so stupid. She shouldn't have thought that just because it had been four weeks since the last attack, it should be okay for a night. The army should have taught her that.

The black figure, for some reason, was capable of sneaking in past the tight security measures and sneaked into Rachel's bedroom no less to leave the letter. She watched as the man – or rather Dustin Goolsby, if she was correct – skulked up the stairs, carefully avoiding the cameras. What he didn't know was that she'd hidden a dozen others in unseen spaces, such as in the plants and some.

Basics.

"Amateur," she couldn't help but whisper.

Fifteen minutes later and he walked out of the bedroom, sneaking out again. She watched him head out the backdoor and towards the pool house. She frowned. She clicked to the camera outside the pool house and watched him rounding the house to the pool. He went to the other side and started climbing the wall and expertly jumped to the other side.

There was only one person she knew who could do that without any flaw other than she herself. Dustin Goolsby. The man who taught her exactly how to do that.

"I think I recognize that move," Marley muttered, taking over the mouse pad and rewinding it. She slowed it down to a normal speed. As each second ticked, her eyes grew wider. "I think…I think that's one of the producers of the film."

"Dustin Goolsby," they said together. Marley in shock and Quinn in despair.

She'd been hoping all week that it wouldn't be him. Dustin Goolsby had been her officer and he had been her  _friend_. He was the only one she'd told about Rachel. He was the only one in the warzone who she trusted to have her back. He was the only one who would sit down with her outside her camp, staring out at the dry land. He was the only one who actually listened. She considered him a confidante. When he finally decided to not continue his contract, she was devastated because she knew she would miss him and she knew she won't have as good a companion as him anymore.

And now, everything was pointing at him. Her gut was telling her it was him. Marley's statement was telling her that it was him. It was him, Dustin Goolsby, who was behind all these shenanigans. It was him who put that hole in her ear. It was him who hired men to nearly kill her. It was all him. And she couldn't help but find it very hard to believe. However, the proof was right there in front of her. She couldn't  _not_  accept it; she couldn't  _not_ doubt him. She had to face it. She had to face him. That was the most terrifying among everything because she  _didn't_  want to face him. She didn't want to confront him. She wanted it to not be him.

"How…how do you know that Dustin Goolsby's move?" she asked a little breathlessly. "Wait, wait, sorry," she stammered, "can you…can you fetch me a glass of water first?"

Marley hurried to the kitchen and came in not a moment longer with a glass of water in hand. She gently put her hand on Quinn's neck and helped her drink the water. When Quinn had enough, she put the glass down on the table.

She moved back and stared at Quinn nervously. "Are you alright?" Quinn nodded quietly, gulped and motioned for Marley to answer her. Marley watched her warily as she said, "He was in a seminar once when I was still a trainee in the high end security guard program. I guess you could call him a guest mentor. He demonstrated some hand-to-hand combat skills and showed us how to climb a wall like that. He said we could try but he'd only seen one person who could do it flawlessly."

Quinn closed her eyes at that and took a slow and deep breath.

_I have to say you're the only person who could pull that off flawlessly, Fabray._

"Yeah," she whispered. "That person would have to be me." She flashed Marley a painful smile. "God, this is so messed up." She moved the laptop off her lap and pulled her knees up and then leaned her forehead against them, wrapping her arms around her knees.

Marley looked confused and then after a moment of running things through her mind, she realized the whole thing. Her lips formed a small 'O' and her eyes turned apologetic. "Yeah, I guess it is kind of messed up," she whispered.

Quinn looked up above her knees at the door, as if Dustin would come in at any minute. Part of her view was blocked by the top of her knees. Her vision was blurry. She surreptitiously wiped her palm over her eyes, swiping the tears away. She sniffed and gave her companion a watery smile, nodding into her knees.

The other woman smiled sadly at her and then jerked her head towards the computer. "So what are you gonna do? About him?"

The bodyguard turned to the computer, watching the frozen figure of a possible-Dustin Goolsby on screen. "I have to confront of him. I have to ask him. I have to arrest him if it's him. It's standard protocol."

"But it's not just standard protocol with you, is it?" Marley inquired. Quinn narrowed her eyes at her. Marley shook her head. "Not Miss Berry."

"Do you know something, Marley?"

The woman laughed dryly and looked down at her feet. She looked up again with the same sad smile, as if she pitied Quinn. "You know, I notice things too. I'm a pretty observant person and others might not be able to see it or feel it, but the tension and the looks between you and Miss Berry aren't that hard to miss."

Quinn released a similar laugh before turning to the door again. "Do you know our story?" she said after long moments of silence.

Marley's whispered 'no' could barely reach her nearly deaf ear. She squeezed her eyes shut at the reminder of her disability and her history with Rachel.

She smiled into the space and reached out to close the laptop lid. She moved her eyes back to Marley and shrugged. "It'd be best if you don't." Marley raised a skeptical brow. "And I also don't wanna talk about it."

Marley nodded in understanding. "Can I ask you a question?" Quinn nodded. "Why do you still…love her so much? Because it seems to me that she's broken quite a substantial part of you. And that's not forgivable commonly."

"Well, Miss Rachel Berry is a force to be reckoned with. She's not  _commonly_ ," Quinn answered with a smirk. The smirk turned into a soft smile. Others would say it was a smile she only reserved for Rachel. "She's not  _commonly_ ," she repeated.

"I get it."

"So I'm probably gonna land a punch in on Dustin. I'll probably cry because he's the only one in the army I've ever told about Rachel. He was my confidante. He was a close friend. So…yeah," she concluded with a lift of her shoulders.

"And I won't judge."

Quinn laughed and nodded. "What about you?" Quinn's smile turned into a teasing one. She reached forward to nudge Marley in the forearm. "Do you have someone special out there?" Marley grinned and bit her lower lip. "Oh my god, there  _is_ someone! Spill!"

"I never thought of you as one to gossip, Quinn," Marley remarked.

"Hey! I'm bedridden and as far as I'm concerned, I'm willing to gossip as long as I won't feel so bored. Now spill."

"Okay, fine!" Marley played with her fingers and cleared her throat. "There is someone I met when I was in the academy. He's now the head of a senator's security team. I don't remember who. We're meeting for a drink this Sunday."

"What's his name?" Quinn asked, a hungry look on her face.

Marley couldn't help but laugh at the look on her face. "Jake."

"Jake who?"

"Puckerman."

The blonde's eyes widened and she nearly collapsed with laughter. Marley stared at her with a bemused look as she cried tears of laughter. Quinn was wheezing when she was done and she threw up a hand to indicate that she still had to calm down. When she was completely calm, she was breathing harshly, lying on the bed with her knees curled up to her chest.

"What's so funny?" Marley asked.

Quinn released another laugh before she pulled herself up to a sitting position. "Jake Puckerman," she said slowly and laughed again. "Have you ever wondered about Puck's full name?"

Marley squinted and slowly drawled, "No?"

"Has Jake ever told you about a brother?"

"Yes." Marley was still trying to figure out where this all led to and then her eyes widened. She gasped and gaped at Quinn. She shrugged with a grin. "Oh my god," Marley muttered as her eyes glanced at every corner of this room as she pieced every piece together in her mind. "Oh my god."

"That's what's funny," Quinn commented. "This is priceless."

* * *

"Cut! Great job, both of you! You can go home and get some rest now. See you tomorrow!"

Rachel's tears subsided and the arms around her loosened and eventually released her. She sat upright on the beige colored armchair and wiped her eyes with her sleeves. She could feel Kitty's presence next to her. She turned to her with a smile.

"That was really intense," she said with a laugh.

Kitty grinned. "Yeah, it was." She stretched and yawned. "I'm just really glad today is finally over. I need to go home and catch some sleep."

Rachel smiled and nodded. "Yeah."

Kitty's eyes turned into concern and curiosity. "So is Miss Fabray okay? I haven't seen her around and I heard about the incident at your place."

"She's…alright. She needs to stay in bed for another week so she won't be around for now," she explained, standing up, eager to go home to see Quinn.

Kitty hummed. "I hope she catches the person faster. It's creepy how much they want to threaten you."

"You tell me," Rachel drawled and yawned. "Well, I gotta go home now. I'll see you tomorrow." She flashed a smile at her co-star and walked out of the scene set, heading for her trailer. She could hear hurried footfalls behind her and she turned to see Finn grinning at her. "Hey, Finn!"

He raised a hand and walked next to her. "Hey," he greeted. "So I haven't got a chance to ask you just now but I wanna know if I can stay over at your place tonight." She frowned at him, her eyes questioning. "I didn't get to see Quinn when she got out of the hospital today. I wanna see how she's doing."

"Oh." Rachel smiled and nodded. "Yeah sure, no problem. I'll get Kurt to prepare the guest room for you" They walked in silence again. "Thank you," she broke the silence. He glanced at her in confusion. "For being worried. I know Quinn hasn't been very friendly with you before. It's good to know that you've let that go and make friends with her."

Finn laughed and shrugged. "Well, she protects you and she seems very responsible with all the effort she takes to protect you. I thought I could make the effort to try to know her." His smile turned into a teasing one and he waggled his brows at her. "And I want to know what's so awesome about her that keeps you so in love with her after four years."

She playfully stepped on his foot and he yelped. She laughed and stopped at the steps leading to the door of her trailer. She sobered and turned to him with a soft smile. "Do you know now?"

His playful grin softened as well. He nodded and shoved his hands into his slack pockets. "Yeah, I know now. I'm glad you found each other. She's a keeper." She grinned and touched his arm gratefully. "And thank you, you know, for trusting me enough to tell your story. I could've called the tabloids and told them but…you trust me not to."

"You're a good friend, Finn," Rachel commented and then leaned in to kiss him on his cheek. "I hope you find someone very special soon."

He laughed again and nodded. "Me too." He slightly turned to walk away. "I'll see you later."

"Yeah. See you later."

Rachel took a short shower in the tiny bathroom in the trailer and changed into a beige T-shirt and a pair of loose jeans. She tied her hair into a messy ponytail and stared at her reflection in the mirror. She could see exhausted eyes and tired lines all over her face. Her body lost the usual powerful stance she carried with her every day.

She sighed and put her hands on the back of the chair in front of the vanity, leaning against it. She lowered her head and closed her eyes, taking slow deep breaths. She offered herself a couple minutes of reprieve and a break to her consciousness. God, she was  _so_  tired. She hadn't been able to catch a good night's sleep for so long and she didn't know how long she could handle this.

She didn't know who it was out there who wanted her gotten rid of so badly. She didn't know anything. She also knew that whatever Quinn and Santana found out over the last month, they wouldn't tell her. More like _Quinn_ wouldn't tell her, which meant the others wouldn't tell her either.

She wanted all this to be over. Now. Immediately. She wanted to sleep. She wanted to actually enjoy Quinn's presence. She wanted to stop worrying over Quinn's safety. She wanted it all to stop. A soft whimper escaped her throat and she squeezed her eyes shut to keep the tears at bay. Goddamn it.

A knock on the door startled her from her reprieve. She looked around her frantically before recalling that she was alone in her trailer. She released a breath of relief before gathering her stuff and slung her bag over her shoulder. She opened the door to see Kurt standing at the top of the steps, whistling a show tune under his breath. He turned to her and his eyes were filled with unease.

"You okay? You've been in there for quite long," Kurt commented quietly.

She gave him a smile to ease his worry. "Yeah, yeah," she said and sighed again. "I'm just tired, is all." He nodded understandably. "We should go home now. Oh, and get Finn's room ready. He wants to stay over."

He raised a brow and she chuckled. "He wants to see how Quinn is doing, surprisingly."

"Really?" His tone was skeptical and she couldn't blame him for it.

"I know right."

"I guess some good came out of recent events, huh?" he stated.

She looked up at him for a moment before her lips curled up. "I guess they did."

* * *

Quinn was dozing off to Marley's humming when she heard the door opened and a stream of light shone in. She groaned and frowned, turning her head away from the light. She could hear a number of footsteps approaching and tried to ignore it.

She could feel her blanket being pulled and adjusted and gentle fingers brushing her hair away from her forehead. She would recognize the fingers anyway and if it wasn't for her being so tired, she would've opened her eyes and greeted them herself. But nope, sleep was her priority now.

So she merely grumbled, "Leave me alone, Rachel."

Rachel's soft chuckle reached her ears and she nearly smiled at that. The fingers didn't cease stroking her scalp and to be honest, it felt good. So she kept quiet. She heard a few hushed whispers. Probably Rachel and Marley talking. Whatever, she didn't care. She was grateful for her flawed hearing, for once.

"I'll talk to her tomorrow morning." Her frown deepened. Finn? A few shushes were passed around the room to chastise Finn for talking too loud. "Sorry," he muttered.

She pursed her lips to keep herself from grinning and giggling. She certainly did not need to give them the idea that they could sit around and disturb her when she was trying to sleep.

Muttered words reached her ear and then she heard the chair Marley was sitting scraped softly across the carpet. Then nothing. The light was gone and she was back in utter darkness, which she was glad for.

The fingers though, they were still there stroking her hair. Guess Rachel decided to stay behind. She felt the other side of the bed dip and a body was there, sitting next to her. Rachel pulled the blanket over them and kept on stroking. She hummed a tune under her breath, loud enough for Quinn to sleep. It was a lullaby. But Quinn was too exhausted to remember what it was.

She felt Rachel land a kiss on her forehead and she snuggled into her pillow, suddenly feeling that it was much easier to fall asleep with that familiar, comforting warm body next to her. The lullaby floating in her ears slowly faded as she eventually fell into an abyss of slumber.

 


	14. big guy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a tribute to Cory Monteith.

Dr. Costner visited her two days later. He checked her wounds, pupils and hearing, changed her dressings and refilled her medications. He sat down, making small talk with her for a half an hour. He said she was one of his most intriguing patients.

"Your stubborn attitude is certainly not one to be reckoned with."

Quinn wasn't sure if she should be flattered or offended by that comment. Before he left, he sobered and gazed at her with all the seriousness he could muster. The smile on her face faded and she took a deep breath to prepare herself. Here comes the real talk, she thought. Dr. Costner glanced at the pile of pamphlets on the bedside table and turned to her.

"So have you made your decision yet?" he asked.

She frowned down at the pamphlets beside her and contemplated her options. "I'm not sure if I will ever be ready for this."

He nodded in agreement. "I understand. It's hard for anyone to come to terms with such shocking news in such a short time period. I don't know what I'd do if I lost even a small part of my hearing. You are exceptionally strong and I admire you for that." He paused to wait for her to look back at him. When she did, he continued, "You also have to face the fact that you won' be able to hear as much as you used to if you don't get a hearing aid. Granted, it's not going to give you your full auditory capability. But your…impaired hearing could improve, however slightly, with the aid."

She gulped. "This is so scary," she whispered with a humorless laugh.

He smiled sympathetically. "I know. You don't have to make your decision right now, but it would be better if you made it as soon as possible, because I have to get the device fitted specifically to suit you. And you're going be back at work once the week is up, I know you are," he added with a teasing smile.

She laughed and reached out for the pamphlets, flipping through them silently for a few minutes. She knew which one she wanted, she just needed to be sure it was the best fit for her line of work.

She stared down at her choice of hearing aid; the picture seemed to glare at her, taunting and urging her to just get it. She took a deep breath and then looked back up with a small smile tugging on her lips.

* * *

Rachel had been curious about what kind of hearing aid Quinn had chosen. It was obvious to her that a choice had been made when she noticed the disappearance of the pamphlets from the bedside table after Dr. Costner's departure. Her concern and caution overrode her curiosity and she kept herself from asking Quinn for fear of being insensitive.

So she didn't ask about the hearing aid. She listened to Dr. Costner's update of Quinn's current health state. He gave his official clearance to get out of bed two days later – when the week was up and Quinn would want to get out of bed and get back to work. She thanked him for making the trip.

The brunette had witnessed her restlessness increasing as each day passed and her aggravation at being bedridden was showing more and more. Marley had been a good sport though. She had taken good care of Quinn over the past five days, which was a lot more than Rachel expected because Quinn Fabray was quite hard to be in the same room with when she was aggravated.

Quinn's pool house was always Rachel's first stop upon arriving home every night. Sometimes she would show up to find a sleeping Quinn and other times she could see Quinn playing Scrabble – she won every single time – against Marley or watching some show on TV.

The blonde had also showed less hostility towards her nowadays and Rachel was thankful for that. They could laugh now and sometimes Quinn would let her hug her. It hadn't happened before the time she had lain in Quinn's bed and sang to her. She appreciated that Quinn was trying and she promised that she would give her as much time as she needed.

There were just a few more scenes to be shot before the movie was completely wrapped. Some of the staff had already taken their leave and a few cast members had said adios, having already filmed their last scenes. Rachel, of course, being the protagonist, still had roughly two more weeks ahead of her before she would bid her own goodbye.

Somehow, she missed seeing Quinn standing in the corner and observing her with watchful and admiring eyes. She missed hearing Quinn order people around. She missed having Quinn staring at her like she was the only girl in the world.

"Berry." She snapped out of her thoughts to Santana snapping her fingers in her face.

Rachel started and pushed back into the couch. "Santana!" she gasped, her hand on her chest as she heaved. "God, do you really have to creep up on me like that?"

"Excuse me! I've been standing here for five minutes trying to get your attention, hobbit." Santana snapped and crossed her arms over her chest, tapping her foot in displeasure.

Rachel stared at the Latina for a second longer before blinking and letting out a breathy "oh". She sat upright on the couch and nodded. "Sorry, I was just…thinking about some things. What do you want?"

"Why aren't you working today?" Santana asked.

"I have an off day today. It's been a manic couple of days on set and Dustin decided to let us have a day to rest. They had to uh…review the clips and do some stuff, I guess," she mumbled with a little frown. She did not notice how Santana tensed at the mention of the executive producer. "Also, Dr. Costner was visiting Quinn today and I would have asked for a day off anyway. It's a good thing, I guess, that Dustin let us off today."

"How long until you wrap?" Santana inquired.

"Um…I'm estimating another week or two," she muttered. She stood up and flashed Santana a smile before making her way to the kitchen and toward the backdoor. "I'm gonna go have a look at Quinn." Santana followed her. "Why are you following me?" Rachel asked over her shoulder, frowning at the Latina.

"She's my best friend too," Santana mentioned, raising an eyebrow in a silent dare for Rachel to protest her coming along.

Rachel hummed and walked down the cobbled path to the pool house. They hadn't even opened the front door yet when they heard raucous laughter sounding from inside the building. They shared a look before Rachel proceeded to open the front door. They paced towards Quinn's room to see the usual gang surrounding the blonde. Surprisingly, Finn, Marley, Kurt and Blaine were there. She thought Kurt had gone to run errands and Blaine had been at rehearsal.

The people in the bedroom didn't seem to realize their presence because they had not stopped laughing. It must've been something Quinn said because she had that smug look on her face that Rachel often found both annoying and sexy.

She gulped at the sight and cleared her throat, drawing attention to her and her Latina companion. She raised a skeptical brow at them. "I didn't know there's a party," she drawled. "And Marley, hi. It's a surprise to see you here."

Marley had a wary look on her face but the light in her eyes did not diminish. She glanced at Quinn with a grin before turning back to Rachel. "I was doing my rounds and I thought I could come and take a look at Quinn. After all, the doctor came and I wanted to know what he said."

Rachel felt a small twinge of jealousy in her heart. It had only been a few days and Quinn and Marley had already grown so close. She turned to Quinn who was staring at her with an amused look. Rachel's eyes widened slightly as she realized that the green-eyed monster in her was caught in act. She cleared her throat harder and she could see Santana stifle a smile behind her hand as she also realized the reason behind Rachel's stiff reaction. The actress threw a glare before looking at Marley with a smile as she tried her best to get rid of the jealousy boiling in her.

The actress threw a glare before looking at Marley with a smile as she tried her best to get rid of the jealousy boiling in her. "That's nice of you, Marley." The blue-eyed girl nodded.

"And when did you get here, Finn?"

Finn shoved his hands into his pockets and smiled his dopey smile at her. "It's an off day so I came this morning. I looked for you but I couldn't find you. So I came here. You don't mind, do you?" he asked carefully.

She shook her head instantly and waved her hand in dismissal. She walked in with Santana and they automatically gave her space right next to Quinn. Rachel smiled down at her as she reached out to take her hand. The blonde gripped tightly and nodded at her in reassurance to the silent question of her health.

"I'm okay," she mouthed.

Rachel's smile widened however slightly and she placed a kiss on Quinn's forehead. She could feel everybody's eyes burning into them but they were lost in each other. She would take as much intimacy with Quinn as she could. She didn't wanna miss out on anything. She stood upright and subconsciously brushed the blonde's hair back.

"So I'm gonna guess that you're pretty excited for Monday," she said with a teasing smile and a raised eyebrow.

"I get to get out of this bed. I'm ecstatic," Quinn deadpanned, earning a small laugh from the brunette. "Dr. Costner…um…he said he's gonna have my…hearing aid on Sunday." She gulped, her smile dimming a little. She still wasn't comfortable with the idea of wearing a hearing aid for the rest of her life.

Suddenly, the air in the room seemed to have grown thicker and tenser. And then Marley broke it. "I'm sure you can still excel in protecting Miss Berry. After all, you're the number one material that Miss Lopez sought out."

Rachel couldn't have been more thankful for Marley when she saw the grin on the blonde's face. Quinn closed her eyes for awhile before reopening them and nodding to herself in reassurance. Santana, on the other hand, had a somewhat smug smirk on her face and she threw Quinn an adoring look to tell her that Marley was absolutely right.

Quinn looked around the room as her friends chatted with each other and sometimes engaged her in an entirely ridiculous topic. Rachel could see the look in her eyes and she leaned down to whisper in Quinn's ear.

"It's lucky we have them, don't you think?" she whispered with a soft smile.

Quinn turned to her and started a little. Their eyes locked, their faces were only a few inches apart, and they could practically feel the others breath. Quinn's breath hitched slightly and Rachel did not miss that. Her lips twitched. She didn't make any move to lean in or anything. She just waited for Quinn's next action.

The injured bodyguard finally grinned and nodded. "Yeah," she said breathily. "It is."

* * *

It felt extremely weird. And unsurprisingly uncomfortable.

She had been preparing herself for the past forty-eight hours. She had braced herself; but when Dr. Costner came with that little box in his hand and a booklet manual in the other, she very nearly had a panic attack. She had rushed into the bathroom and bent over the toilet bowl, throwing up the bacon sandwich she'd had that morning.

The anxiety. The nerves. The fear. The need to admit that she now had this physical flaw that would affect her for the rest of her life. They had all been hogging her for hours and days on end. She had just never faced them. They were the demons she hid from for years now. She'd been running from them. She unexpectedly ran into them when she saw Rachel again. And then she ran again. She never actually stopped to face and fight them. And now, seeing the hearing aid was the last straw. She was facing the demons.

Rachel was there pulling her hair back as she rutted and coughed and choked. The grimace on her face was substantial and she had moisture at the edges of her eyes. She held it in though, as she patted Quinn's back, muttering soothing words into her ears to ease her emotions and her headache.

Quinn groaned and leaned her head against the rim of the toilet bowl, disregarding how unsanitary that was. She breathed harshly, coughing every now and then. She hated being so weak. She hated having an audience witnessing her moment of weakness. She hated that she needed something like a fucking hearing aid to help her. She  _hated_  it all.

When she finally composed herself, she stood up on wobbly legs and headed to the sink. She twisted the faucet and splashed water on her face, wiping it with a towel before walking out with Rachel in tow. Santana, Brittany, Sam, Puck and Finn – the guy seemed to be here a lot lately, which Quinn didn't mind – were occupying all corners of the room while Dr. Costner waited by the foot of the bed.

They watched her tentatively as she took slow steps to the bed and sat down. Rachel never left her side. Dr. Costner appraised Quinn for a moment before nodding to himself and unpacking the box. Inside was another metal box. He took it out and lifted the lid, removing the very item that was going to stick with her for the rest of her life.

She stared at it. She put extra focus on it. Her eyes zoomed in at the tiny, foreign object. Everything around her was a blur as she glare-stared at the object. Dr. Costner moved next to her and held it in front of her, a small smile on his face.

Quinn took a deep readying breath and frowned a little. She gulped, the aftertaste of vomit strong in her mouth. She could feel the bile rising in her throat and she suppressed it. She tentatively reached out, hesitated, and then took it. Her mouth opened a little. She was holding it. She had it. And she was gonna wear it.

It was flesh colored to help camouflage the device from people who didn't pay too close of attention. She rolled it in her hands, observing. It was an inner ear hearing aid, which meant it would rest inside the ear canal, rather than behind her ear like many common, older model aids.. She chose it because it would be inside her ear and wouldn't easily fall out. It was also small and easy. She knew it might be difficult to fine tune to her preferences, her but she felt that it would be most suitable. It also offered some listening advantages that the other hearing aids offered did not.

She looked up at Dr. Costner, who was waiting patiently for her to finish exploring the object. He raised his brows at her. She released her breath and then nodded, brushing her hair behind her right ear and gestured at it for him to make his move.

He smiled and began talking. He explained the shape and size. He demonstrated the way to put it in her ear appropriately and then asked her to do it. When she failed the first time, he demonstrated again. His patience was endless and he never showed even the slightest annoyance. She tried it a few more times before she finally succeeded, resulting in a proud smile from Dr. Costner.

He asked her take it out again to teach her how to adjust the amplifier, switch the T-coil and regulate the microphone. When he was done explaining, he asked her if she understood, and she nodded in agreement. Then he asked her to show him how to do all those things. She did them to his satisfaction and he finally nodded in approval.

"Alright then. Now, if you're ready, you can put it in and start putting it to good use," he said softly, tilting his head at her.

Her friends watched from her bedside. Rachel had her hand resting on Quinn's knee so she could take it for some familiarity and comfort. She watched the emotions sweeping past Quinn's eyes as her face remained stone cold. She could see the emotions fighting for dominance. Rachel squeezed Quinn's knee lightly, drawing her attention to her.

Rachel offered her a gentle smile and nodded slowly. "You can do it," she whispered. "I know you can."

The blonde gazed at her for god-knows-how-long before she nodded to herself and smiled. She stared at the device once more and then proceeded to put it in her right ear. It took her a couple of seconds to get it right. She could feel that she got it right when she heard the click and everything seemed louder when everyone was silent. She slowly put down her hand.

Again, it felt extremely weird. And unsurprisingly uncomfortable.

Her hand landed on her lap as she lowered her head and closed her eyes. She listened. She felt the thing pricking into her ear. She felt the itch to take it out and get rid of it, but she clenched her hands into tight fists. She forced herself to get used to it. She forced herself to just accept it.

 _I am near deaf and I need hearing aid._  She kept ranting the same phrase over and over again before she finally snapped her eyes open. She lifted her head and saw that everybody was watching her anxiously.

"How do you feel?" She turned to Finn and stared. The words were louder, but they still weren't as loud as they were before the incident. She had expected it, so she wasn't exactly disappointed because they were at least  _louder_.

So she smiled at her newly-gained friend and said, "Louder."

* * *

Finn stayed with her after the doctor gave her more meds to regulate her body and the manual to refer to if she had any questions about her new device. Rachel had to go back to work and Santana had taken it upon herself to take control of the security team after a slight schedule mishap that occurred under Azimio's control while Quinn was out of commission.

Rachel had made sure everything was taken care of and asked Quinn how she was feeling more than twenty times before Santana had grown impatient and pushed her out the door. They bade her one last goodbye before they left.

She still felt uncomfortable with the hearing aid. It felt like something was pricking into her ear and it itched. Despite the discomfort, her hearing had improved so she left it in. She knew she would get used to it eventually.

He sat by her bed and put down a stack of comics on the tray table in front of her. She raised a brow at him as he flashed her a goofy grin. He ruffled his own hair and picked up one from the stack and showed it to her. She stared at X-Men with that weird mask of his on the cover before looking back at Finn.

"Why do I have comics in my bedroom?" she asked skeptically.

His grin stayed intact and wide as he practically shoved the comic book into her hands. "Well, when I'm sick, I read comic books. These are from my collection. They're like my babies or something. So you should really feel special that I'm letting you read them. I don't normally let people even touch them."

She smiled slightly at his thoughtfulness before shaking her head and chuckling. "Sorry, but I don't dig Marvel…or any other comic books out there so…" She flimsily handed it back to him.

He stared at her with a scandalous expression and then fumbled with the comic book. "But it's Marvel! It's like the best thing ever!" he said, almost screaming in protest. "You can't not like Marvel! I have never seen anyone who doesn't like Marvel before!"

She shrugged. "Guess I'm the first," she said with an apologetic smile.

He gaped at her for a moment longer as his brain seemed to be processing the seemingly shocking news. Finally, he closed his mouth with a sigh and shook his head in disappointment as he placed the comic back on top of the pile and twisted the chair to face her completely.

"So what do you wanna do now? Instead of reading Marvel, which I still think is completely insane and unreasonable and stupid," he remarked with all honesty.

"Stupid?" Quinn teased, smirking. "You dare call me stupid?" He gave her an unamused look. She laughed and shook her head. "Joking," she added. Her laughter died down and she turned back to him with curiosity. "So why aren't you working?"

"I'm done filming," he answered with a casual shrug, picking up the comic book he was holding before and flipped to the front page.

She was taken aback momentarily before she recovered. "What? Since when?"

"Last night." He looked up at her with his goofy grin again. "So I graciously offered myself as your companion for the day, seeing as you're stuck still stuck in bed." He winked at her and snickered. She narrowed her eyes slightly. "And I have nothing to do until the wrap party so…" He lifted his shoulders in a shrug and gave her an expression that said  _Why not_?

"Aw," she drew out. "You're sweet."

"You only realized this now?" he said with his signature half smirk.

"And modest too," she remarked.

He chuckled and nodded to himself with a smug look on his face. "My best quality."

She laughed out loud at that. "You know, I didn't realize you were so nice until recently," she said with a soft smile. "It's kind of nice to know that I've gained a friend from this."

"Likewise, Fabray. Likewise," he replied. "I guess we were just too overtaken by our feelings for Rachel to actually be civil with each other. I'm glad we're over that now." There was a glint in his eyes that raised her suspicions. Her gaze stayed on him until he finally got spooked and he frowned at her. "Why are you staring at me like I'm bacon?"

She blinked and opened her mouth wide, the edges tugged by a grin. "I don't stare at anyone except Rachel like meat," she said. His eyes widened at her words. "And I'm staring at you like a predator…because you have something to hide."

She swore his eyes couldn't get any wider. She gave him her signature eyebrow raise and smirk. "I have no idea what you're talking about," he finally said, gave her look and went back to his comic book.

"Oh come on! I thought we were best friends!"

He looked up with a naughty grin. "You say what now?" His tone was laced with incredulity and laughter.

"I thought we're best friends!" she repeated with the same whiny tone as before. "What are you hiding?" she asked loudly, climbing onto her knees and crawled nearer to punch his shoulder playfully.

He looked at her for a moment before frowning and tilting his head. "Are you high?" he asked.

Her gaze turned into a glare and she reached out to punch him again, harder this time. He yelped and rubbed his arm. "I am not high!" she enunciated. "Now tell me!"

"Are you always so bossy and violent?" Finn remarked. When her arm shot out again, he pushed the chair back a few paces, getting out of her reach quickly. "Hey!" he yelled.

"I prefer the words 'powerful' or 'fierce' or 'determined'." She offered him a fake smile. "Now, are you gonna tell me or do I have to get out of this bed to force it out of you?"

"It's nothing big!" he proclaimed.

"I'm bored."

He gaped at her. "What does that have to do with anything?"

"I'm bored. I want to talk about stuff. Any stuff. And whatever you're hiding is probably worth my time to talk about. So out with it! What are you hiding?"

He groaned and threw his head back, hanging against the chair back. "I met a girl." She raised a brow at the new information. "It was the night after my first visit to you. You know, when we had that talk about Rachel. I went for a drink that night. The girl's a bartender there. We talked. I got her number."

She stared at him for a moment before huffing. "Why would you hide something like that? It's a good thing!"

"Because I haven't talked to her since that night. I haven't called her or anything. I figured she would've met another guy at this point." She slapped him on the arm and he jumped, glaring at her. "Would you stop hitting me?"

"I would if you'd stop being an idiot!" she hissed. "Why haven't you called her?"

His features fell and he sighed, looking down at his lap. He ran his hand through his hair and released another sigh. He shrugged and gave her a helpless look. "I'm a coward. I couldn't bring myself to call her. I was afraid she didn't like me. And it's not usually good for an actor's public image to date a bartender."

She frowned at his logic. "You'd choose your career over your happiness?" she asked incredulously.

He stammered, opening and closing his mouth a few times before he grunted and rubbed his face with his hand. "My career's only starting to bloom, Quinn. You have to understand that I've been working really hard at this business for a long time and this is the first time I've landed a role this huge! I can't let it go just like that."

"But what if she could make you happy?" She stared at him with both of her brows raised. She gestured in the air and said, "What if you could find real happiness with her? What if you have a future with her?"

"Quinn," Finn started protesting.

"No," Quinn interrupted. "I know being a celebrity is tough. I know you like being an actor. I know all that. Hell, I'm in love with one of them!" Finn smiled slightly at that. "But I also know that it's not easy to find happiness. I've been there and done that. I chose my career over the love of my life and look where I ended up at. You need to snag this chance before it's too late. Because once it's too late, you won't know when you'll find another chance like this again."

Finn fidgeted with his fingers as he contemplated her words, his jaw working as he shifted in his seat. She watched him as he mulled over her advice. He had turned into a good friend and she wanted him to be happy. With whomever it was that could give him that.

"I guess I'll call her tonight and see if we can go out sometime," he muttered at last with a reluctant smile. She grinned and nodded. "You give good pep talks."

She shrugged with a smug look. "I have my ways."

* * *

Quinn was slaying soldiers on Call of Duty with Finn when Rachel and the rest came home. He'd gone to the mansion to pick up the Xbox in the game room and plugged it in her bedroom after an hour of talking nonsense.

He had initially tried to get her to read the comic books again but she straight out refused. She said they were immature and fictional and completely exaggerated. Finn had protested her remarks but she stood her ground. God knows how stubborn she could be. He admitted defeat and suggested Call of Duty for her.

She had played the game with Sam and Puck whenever she came home from the army on leave. They had taught her the basics and she quickly learned how to maneuver through things by herself. At the end of the day, she defeated both of them in the game with flying colors.

Now, she came to find out that Finn Hudson was quite the opponent at the game. He easily disappeared from her point of view and even got in a few shots on her avatar. They had been playing for about two hours, with Quinn in the lead at 3:1

Her victories were certainly hard fought, as she was always found herself hanging on the edge of her 'life' , just barely defeating Finn each time.

They were fully concentrated on their fourth round and they didn't even have the politeness to greet their visitors when they came in. Their eyes stayed focused on the TV screens, each of them pressing frantically over random buttons on their respective controllers. There would be an occasional twitch on Quinn's lips or a sporadic smirk on Finn's.

Rachel and Santana had given up trying to gain their attention and they all – Rachel, Santana, Brittany, Puck, Sam and Kurt – gathered behind Finn to avoid blocking the gamers view. Their animosity towards each other was shown on screen as they showed not a slice of mercy at all as they pitted against each other.

And just in a short moment, the whole group had become completely engrossed in the gunshot battle going on screen. Rachel would gasp when Quinn nearly got shot. Santana would release chuckles when Quinn successfully took a portion of Finn's 'life'. Puck and Sam would whistle whenever they displayed some awesome skills they could never achieve themselves. Brittany was grinning the whole time while Kurt was watching with nonchalance.

The room grew tense as their battle neared the end, everyone waiting to see who would be victorious... Quinn and Finn began to be less careless and more cautious, searching for the others avatar. It was obvious that Quinn was the more careful one of the two.

Rachel subconsciously held onto Quinn's shoulder when she saw what Quinn saw. Finn was so concentrated on his point of view that he didn't notice that Quinn had found him. Rachel allowed a distracted glance to Quinn and gulped when she saw the incredibly sexy smirk on the blonde's face as she aimed and pressed the button to pull the trigger.

Then Finn's avatar dropped dead. And the round was over.

Quinn released a maniacal laugh and cheered and whooped in her bed, doing a dorky upper body dance as Finn gaped as the screen. When Finn turned to her with an incredulous look, she laughed louder and leaned forward to ruffle his hair, giving him a mock kiss.

She winked at him and giggled. "I win."

he continued her victory dance, singing at the top of her lungs and throwing her arms in the air at the most random time intervals. Finn couldn't help but smile at her in the end. Quinn didn't even seem to realize that she had an amused and happy audience as she kept on acting ridiculous. It was a version of herself that rarely made appearances. Finn decided that his loss was worth it.


	15. will she let her love her?

Quinn Fabray was pretty damn sure she was back in her element the second she strapped on her shoulder holster and shoved her gun inside. She looked at herself in the mirror and smiled at herself.

She had already accepted the fact that she wouldn't ever be  _fully_  back in her element. Not with the damaged ear. But she could deal with this. She reached up to brush a stray strand of hair back and squinted at herself. She'd forgotten the last time she'd seen herself in a mirror and not see a fragile woman in her sleep shirt with messy hair and broken eyes.

Now she saw a woman with glossy hair whose hazel green eyes were glinting and sparkling under the sunlight. It seemed the weather was on her side, too. She adjusted the straps on her shoulder and pulled on the hem of her brown button-down collared shirt before rolling up the sleeves. She went into the closet and grabbed her favorite leather jacket and pulled it on. She pulled her hair out of the neckline of the jacket and shook it loose before she turned to the bedside table and picked up the tiny device that was going to be her companion for the rest of her life.

"Let's start bonding, buddy," she whispered to it. Quinn faced the mirror as she carefully put the hearing aid into her ear, tucking it into place. She nodded to herself and spoke, "Testing one, two, three." She could hear. Louder now. She released the air she'd been holding and nodded to herself, closing her eyes.

"Nervous?"

Her eyes snapped open and she could see Rachel's reflection in the mirror, standing in the doorway behind her. She had her hair tied in a messy ponytail and was casually dressed. First glance would lead one to believe she was going to stay at home rather than head to work.

Quinn's eyes met Rachel's through the reflection and chuckled. "Not really," she drawled. "I'm just…trying to get used to it."

Rachel's teasing smirk spread on her face. "What? Two weeks in bed made you rusty? Can I trust you to protect my life later?" she teased.

The blonde narrowed her eyes at the brunette and she huffed. She turned around and shoved her hands into the back pockets of her jeans. "Trust me," she enunciated as her eyebrows rose, "I won't disappoint."

They stood in the room, each in their corners. There was quite a few feet separating them, but it almost felt like they were the only ones existing in this white space of nothingness. Their eyes locked as the white grew louder than ever. They could almost felt the electricity flowing around them and into them, rendering them immobile.

"I love you," Rachel finally said, the electricity bouncing off her as she pushed away from the door panel. She took a few steps forward until their bodies were almost pressed together and they could literally feel the warmth emanating from each other's bodies. She reached up and cupped Quinn's cheek softly. "I love you," she repeated.

It hit her suddenly.  _Vamoosh_! The electricity formed a bubble around them; everything was so quiet and so loud at the same time. Quinn watched the emotions skipping around in Rachel's eyes and she swallowed audibly.

She felt it, and had felt it for a long time. So had Rachel. Ever since she started opening up to her, she had felt it. She just hadn't been healthy enough to do anything. But now she was healthy. She was out of bed. She could do things. And she could make a move if she wanted to. Lord, she  _wanted_  to. However, the doubts forming in her mind gave her pause. She wasn't sure if making a move was the right thing to do. She wasn't sure of a lot of things.

It was as if Rachel could practically hear the thoughts running in her mind, because her other hand reached up to wrap gently around the back of her neck, stroking the hairs on her nape. Quinn subconsciously leaned into her touch and released a quiet, relaxing breath. Rachel smiled gently at her and she leaned forward slightly until their noses touched and their foreheads leaned against one another.

"Open your eyes, Quinn," Rachel prodded, her hands never ceasing their comforting motions against Quinn's tender pale skin. "Come on, darling. Open them."

To trust or not to trust? That question flew out the window the moment Rachel called her that endearment. Her decision was made. She obeyed Rachel's soft prodding and opened her eyes, locking them with Rachel's watery brown ones. She heard Rachel's breath hitch slightly and the smile tugging on her lips widened.

"There you are," she whispered.

Quinn offered a tender smile and her arms hesitantly extended, hovering over Rachel's hips. Rachel nodded, seeing the uncertainty lingering in Quinn's eyes and facial expression. Quinn's brows furrowed a bit as her hands finally settled on the curve of Rachel's hips. Her hands naturally molded themselves to the curves, feeling the soft cotton of the shirt Rachel was wearing and remembering the feel of Rachel's skin underneath her hands. A whoosh of breath escaped her lips and her forehead leaned further into Rachel's.

Rachel's thumb stroked Quinn's cheek as her other hand brushed the nape of her neck. Quinn had often wondered how it would feel to have Rachel touch her so gently and tenderly again. Now she knew, and dear god she never wanted this to end.

"I love you," Rachel repeated. It was as if she was a stereo and she was set to repeat the same song. Those words sounded like music to Quinn's ear. She had not heard those words spoken so beautifully in four years. Quinn had yearned to hear that music flow to her ears since the second the door slammed closed. Rachel's thumb brushing under her eye brought her back to reality and Rachel was staring at her inquiringly. "Will you let me love you?"

Quinn swallowed, her heart twisting and her breath shallow. She had no coherent response as to Rachel's inquiry. She opened her mouth and no words came out. No sound, nothing. She wanted to talk but she couldn't. Her throat was closing up and she was so overwhelmed that she suddenly found herself at a dead end. She looked Rachel into her eyes and let her see the words transmitted through eye contact.

Rachel's smile broadened into a grin as a soft melodic laugh escaped her throat. Rachel's hand around Quinn's neck tightened ever so slightly as she nodded against Quinn's forehead. Tears were threatening to escape her eyes as the gladness and the feeling of accomplishment washed over the brunette's body.

"Thank you," Rachel whimpered.

Unexpectedly, Rachel's lips were pressed against Quinn's. Quinn's arms inadvertently extended to wrap around Rachel's waist to hold her tighter to her. Their bodies molded into every inch of their curves and arches. They fit perfectly. Neither of them had ever felt so close and so perfectly fitted for ages and they missed it and they loved it and they  _needed_  this to be endless.

Quinn's gasp was muffled against Rachel's mouth.  _Holy mother of_ , she thought as she felt Rachel's lips move to fit hers.  _Holy mother of..._  as she felt the slightest taste of Rachel's tongue against her wet lips.  _Holy mother of everything that's holy,_  she thought as their mouths simultaneously open to allow each other access.

Rachel released a whine when her tongue tangled with Quinn's. It was shocking and burning and she felt like Quinn had set a molten gold against her tongue, burning oh so slowly and yet so deliciously on her entire being.

Her blood vessels were on fire. Her brain was melting slowly to the heat of everything that was happening. Her heart was expanding and contracting and pumping; she had never felt a heat so delicious and painful at the same time. A pit of slow burning fire settled in her lower abdomen. Rachel squirmed against Quinn and pulled her tighter to taste more of her.

Quinn withdrew slightly and breathed, "I love you," harshly against Rachel's mouth before she swooped in to capture those delicious and perfect lips again. She was drowning. She was drowning and she didn't want to get out of the water ever again. She was drowning and she felt no need for air. She only felt the need for Rachel Barbra Berry. And she had her now. She still wasn't satisfied. She didn't believe she could ever be satisfied.

It was all coming back to them. To her. The memories of their time together.

When they would lie in bed and cuddle.

When they would kiss each other time and time again after they made love.

When they would simply take strolls in Central Park and revel in the other's presence.

When they would buy each other ice cream or flowers just to see them smile.

It was all coming back to them and it felt like they couldn't ever be sad again because they had it now.

It was all coming back to them and it felt like they couldn't ever be sad again because they had it now. Quinn had a sense of being overpowered by a sudden energy. She lifted Rachel from the floor and Rachel squealed and giggled, finally releasing her lips. They stared into each other's eyes and laughed against each other's mouths as Quinn carried Rachel to the nearby wall and put her down. Quinn's arms withdrew from Rachel's waist and Rachel nearly groaned at the loss of contact but then grinned again when Quinn pressed their bodies tightly together.

They gazed at each other for a second longer, memorizing every single detail of the others face. Quinn leaned down as Rachel tilted her head, their lips meeting half way. Quinn released a breath through her nose at the unending sensation of pleasure and sweetness. Her grip on Rachel's hip tightened as she sought more of the brunette's lips.

She smiled against Rachel's lips when she felt soft palms relocating themselves on her face and neck. It felt almost natural. Only things were never natural when it came to Quinn Fabray and Rachel Berry.

She released Rachel's lips with a gentle pop and then proceeded to kiss her cheek, her nose, her jaw, her eyes and the smooth delicious column of her neck. She sucked a little, but not too hard to leave a mark. The actress giggled slightly and gasped when Quinn kissed a particularly sensitive spot that always got to her. The blonde chuckled throatily and leaned back enough to see Rachel.

The mirth was evident in Rachel's eyes; swelling with love, tenderness and happiness, and Quinn wondered when the last time she had seen these emotions from the woman of her dreams. Quinn's forearm pushed away from the wall and moved to brush a stray strand of hair back from Rachel's forehead.

"You are so beautiful," she whispered huskily, almost broken as she relished in Rachel's utter beauty.

A slight tint of blush colored Rachel's cheeks and Quinn couldn't help but laugh. Years of being in the showbiz, she still had the tendency to be embarrassed of an entirely true compliment. Adorable. Quinn shook her head affectionately as she swooped down to capture Rachel's lips again.

They didn't have much time to enjoy the kiss though. Someone decided to burst their bubble with a needle with a clearing of a throat. Quinn's lips abruptly disconnected from Rachel's and she could see Rachel's eyes widening at the sight of their intruder over her shoulder. She sighed and looked over her shoulder to see Santana standing there with her arms crossed and a bored look on her face. There was no mistaking the tiny little smirk on her face though.

The bodyguard groaned and turned back to Rachel to lean her head on her collarbone. "Go away," she whined and Rachel laughed.

Santana cleared her throat again. "Uh, no can't do. You two wasted like, 15 precious minutes of my life necking each other when the entire world is waiting for you out there. So yeah, get your asses moving and let's get the hell out of here. You can snog all you want in the car, or on the set for all I care."

Quinn sighed against Rachel's collarbone and she smirked when she felt a shudder tearing through the brunette's body. Her hand moved up Rachel's hips then down her arm, leaving a trail of shivers down Rachel's body, and settled on gripping her hand. She lifted her head and pecked Rachel's lips before turning around and pulling Rachel with her.

She raised a brow at Santana with a grin and jerked her head towards the front door, "Let's get our asses moving then."

* * *

Quinn stood in a corner, not far enough away that Rachel couldn't see her, but not close enough to hear what was happening at the filming spot. She sighed and rubbed her temple with her thumb. Not even a full day and she was already getting a headache. The hearing aid was also giving her an itch and she had to keep scratching her ear, careful to not let it fall out.

The first thing she did when they arrived on set was look for Dustin Goolsby. Nobody knew she had her sights on him with the exception of Marley, and possibly Santana. She intended to keep it that way. But color her surprised when they told her Dustin had been in Washington, DC for the past two weeks, leaving the same day she had been hospitalized. That information only increased her suspicion.

"So I couldn't help but notice that you were holding hands with Rachel when you came into the garage," Kurt muttered quietly, only loud enough for Sam, who was standing with her, to hear. Sam released a noise of agreement and turned to look at Quinn expectantly. She snapped out of her thoughts. "Care to explain?"

Quinn's eyebrow twitched in a way that could only be described as mischievous and smirked when her eyes met Rachel's across the set. "No," she replied in monotone as she winked at Rachel. She knew they still needed to talk about…a lot of things, actually. But it didn't mean she couldn't have some fun now. "There isn't much to explain."

She started when Kurt suddenly cleared his throat  _really_  loudly. She broke her eye contact with Rachel and scowled at the man. He raised a skeptical brow at her with an unamused look. "Not much to explain?" he repeated, his tone incredulous. "Not much to explain my ass. You two have a lot to explain and don't think I won't be up both your asses to find out what's going on."

She bristled and twisted her body slightly to partly face him. "This is between Rachel and I, Kurt. We're still figuring things out. I  _need_  you to not come in between us and intrude. I'm sure Rachel will tell you everything once we've talked things out and figure out what our next step is," Quinn pleaded. Kurt opened his mouth but she stopped him. "I know you're concerned about her. And as her manager and best friend, you have the right to be. I'm not saying you have no right to know. I'm just saying not now."

Kurt stared at her for a moment, trying to gauge the honesty of her words, but this was Quinn Fabray. No one could ever figure Quinn Fabray out, besides Rachel and Santana. So Kurt could only believe her because she seemed honest. He nodded and hummed in submission to her pleas.

Quinn's gaze lingered on Kurt for a minute longer before she nodded – more to herself than him – and turned back. Rachel was standing there, frozen in place, nodding at whatever Artie was saying while her eyes were on them. She had a frown on her face. Quinn sighed and resisted closing her eyes. Clearly, the brunette had seen the exchange between her and Kurt. Quinn offered a tiny smile at the woman.

"It's okay," she mouthed. "Get back to work."

Rachel raised a suspicious brow at her and Quinn rolled her eyes. Her mouth quirked up into a half-smile at the other woman and she gave a reassuring nod. Rachel's eyes stayed on her until Artie snapped his fingers to regain her attention.

Rachel quickly snapped to her professional self and began to really listen to Artie talking. Quinn smirked at what just happened. Rachel's capability to transition from that to this was admirable. She watched as the brunette began offering input here and there for Artie.

"Don't you have patrols to do?" Sam voiced.

Quinn's eyes widened slightly at his words and her smirk disappeared, replaced by a look of nonchalance. She cleared her throat and turned her head to him to nod before walking away. She blushed furiously when she heard him and Kurt chuckling behind her.

Quinn walked out of the filming set and began her rounds around the block, hands folded behind her back as she scanned the area for anything suspicious. She went to the little trailer they'd set up for the tech team to work on their stuff, like the security cameras back at the mansion and here on set. She checked with them for any abnormalities and left, once reassured that there was nothing. Then she strolled around the block once more, checking in with her team, and managed to make it back to the set in forty-five minutes.

She frowned when Rachel was nowhere in sight. Sam was sitting in one of the chairs and tapping his foot to a rhythm. She approached him and tapped him on the shoulder. He looked up and she was ready to ask him about Rachel's whereabouts when he pointed to the changing/dressing area. She looked up and sure enough, Rachel was sitting in front of the mirrors to get her makeup fixed. Quinn sighed in relief. She reached back to drag another chair towards her and dropped down on the chair. Her head dropped back, hanging off the back of the chair. She groaned and reached up to massage her temple.

"Tired?" Sam asked, looking at her in amusement. She hummed. "Two weeks in bed made you rusty?"

She lifted her head to glare at him. "I am not rusty. I just need to get used to being back here and…you know." She motioned at her ear and sighed. "And that one person I'm looking for isn't here so yeah."

He nodded and looked around him, his gaze staying on Rachel before he turned back to her with a grin that looked more like a smirk. She didn't like that look on his face. She didn't like that look on anyone's face. She narrowed her eyes at him as he waggled his brows at her. She had an idea what he was on about but she wasn't going to let him know that. Instead, her eyebrow rose in feigned query.

He rolled his eyes and pointed over his shoulder. "Rachel?" he mentioned.

"What about her?"

Both of his eyebrows rose at her fake innocence. "What? Do you think I'm blind or dumb?" he said, sounding offended. She gave him a look. "Are you back together?"

Quinn allowed a look of realization flash across her face. Seriously, she should win an Oscar for this. She looked over his shoulder to see Rachel gazing at them both from the reflection in the mirror. Rachel smiled shyly when Quinn caught her in the act. Quinn grinned and returned to Sam. He still had that inquiring look on his face. She shrugged.

Sam frowned. "What does that mean?"

She lifted her shoulders again and sat upright, stretching her arm out to a nearby catering table. She grabbed a can of Bud Light, popped it open and drank its contents. "I mean I don't know. We haven't talked it out. Just like what I told Kurt. Didn't you hear us?" She accented her question with another sip of her beer.

"So what did you guys do that made you late?" he asked again, oblivious to the obvious. "And you really shouldn't drink while working, especially when you've just healed."

"A can of Bud Light won't do shit," she commented dryly. She placed it back on the table anyway, just to be rid of his disapproving look. "We did stuff."

His frown deepened and he sucked his teeth in irritation. "Well, obviously you did stuff. What stuff?"

"Dude, are you stupid?" Puck's voice rang out from behind her. He had that dirty smirk on his face that indicated he'd heard their conversation and he knew exactly what she was talking about. "They did the dirty. But obviously not down to it. They probably only did the first part of doing the dirty." He winked at Quinn.

She laughed at his statement and shook her head in amusement. Sam looked back and forth between them before he realized what they were talking about. He stared into space, "Oh" being the only confirmation he could make regarding his new knowledge.

"Was it good?" Puck asked her, grabbing her half-finished beer and guzzling the rest before chucking it into the trash. She smirked and he laughed, reaching forward to pat her shoulder. "Score."

She stood up from the chair and shook her head again. "I'm not talking about this anymore with you guys," she muttered. Her arm came forward to slap the bald guy lightly on his cheek. "You should get back to what I assigned you to do. Patrol."

"Where is Santana?" Puck asked her.

She shrugged and looked around her, her eyes stopping on Rachel as their eyes made contact again through the reflection in the mirror. She grinned and muttered, "Probably being in love somewhere." She knew she was.

* * *

It was still relatively early by the time Rachel had finished filming for the day. She had spoken with Artie, requesting a short day because it was Quinn's first day back and she didn't want her to be too stressed. Not that Quinn needed to know that. She didn't need Quinn thinking she was weak. She did it because she wanted a peace of mind for herself.

And she wanted to take some time to talk to Quinn.

What happened this morning was just a prelude of things to come. They still had a long road ahead. They needed to decide which paths to take; Together, or separately. Rachel wasn't naïve enough to think that a rushed make out session in Quinn's bedroom against the wall was going to drastically change everything.

That didn't stop her from sneaking glances at Quinn, who was sitting on the front seat. Her lips curled up at the sight of Quinn smiling. Well, she wasn't exactly smiling. That twitch of her lips was miniscule and barely noticeable. But Rachel, having seen that twitch one too many times, knew that it was a smile.

She was both nervous and excited about what was going to happen. The kisses they shared this morning were amazing; Rachel was breathless and had lost function of her brain when they stopped. It was only Quinn's excited tug on her hand to lead her out that snapped her back to reality.

She sucked on her lips and made a sound to try to get rid of the smile spreading on her face, but it just came back. She shook her head at her own lack of self-control. Quinn glanced over her shoulder at Rachel and the edge of her lips only tipped slightly before she turned back to the front. Rachel resisted the squeal from escaping her throat.

She was very well aware of Kurt's gaze burning holes into the side of her head. And he wasn't very subtle in doing it either. She turned her head to see him blatantly staring at her and she rolled her eyes. He raised a questioning brow and Rachel shook her head, indicating that wouldn't say anything, before diverting her attention to the view out the window.

Rachel was faintly stunned to see that they were already rounding the fountain to the front of her mansion. She hadn't even noticed passing through the gates. She released a breathy chuckle. Was she really that lost in her own thoughts? Regardless, her door was suddenly opened and Quinn was standing by it, making a flourishing gesture towards the steps for her to get out of the car and into the house.

The brunette stepped out, her skirt riding up her thigh to reveal tanned glowing skin. The flicker in Quinn's eyes as her attention snapped to her limbs did not go unnoticed. Rachel smirked and took her time stretching her legs outside the car before pushing herself to stand, taking Quinn's proffered hand in the process. Rachel couldn't help but blushed. Quinn's chivalry was one of her charms and one of the reasons she fell for the blonde.

Her body turned slightly to face Quinn and her head lifted a little to meet Quinn's glinting hazel green eyes. She swallowed and kept her composure. "We need to talk," she whispered huskily. "Can you come to my study later?"

The bodyguard lifted her free hand to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear whilst adjusting her hearing aid. Rachel watched her fixing it and swallowed again. Her gaze flickered back to Quinn as she cleared her throat.

"I'll be there after I've done my rounds," Quinn replied in a whisper before she squeezed the brunette's hand and released it. "I'll see you later, Miss Berry." Her voice carried a teasing tone.

Rachel felt shudders running through her veins and clouding her mind. She walked up the steps and heard the car door slamming close and driving away. She turned in time to see the headlights sweeping down the driveway toward the garage. She spun back around to find herself walking into Kurt's chest. She stepped back hastily.

"Kurt!" she exclaimed. "Seriously?"

Kurt had a curious and slightly disgusted look on his face. "Really?"

"I'm not telling you anything until we've sorted things through and decide how to proceed, Kurt," Rachel said tiredly. "Now let me through so I can shower. You can go entertain Santana and Brittany or whatever."

"Oh they don't need any entertaining from me. I have a feeling they've already found a way to entertain themselves at the moment," he said quickly, waving his hand in dismissal. Rachel's eyes widened at his words. He smirked and sidestepped so she could pass through. "And you are gonna tell me everything."

"Yes," she promised, shaking her head in annoyance as she made her way up the spiral staircase to the second floor. "Incorrigible," she muttered.

* * *

Quinn began her evening security detail. She stopped off to make small talk with Karofsky. He'd hugged her, saying it was nice to see her back in shape. She didn't tell him about her ear. Then she called a brief meeting with the team to regroup after her absence. Marley stayed behind after the meeting to tell her how happy she was to see Quinn back in charge. After that, she made her rounds around the mansion to see if there was anything unusual. She made a note to take a look on the security camera footage later. She was now making her way up the stairs forty-five minutes later.

She stopped at the top of the stairs, breathing deeply in an attempt to gather her composure. She was nervous. Quinn Fabray was nervous. She'd forgotten the last time she was nervous, but she knew that she was nervous right now. She swept her sweaty –  _sweaty_  – palms against her slacks a few times before turning right and making her way down the hallway to the study.

The door was closed. She could hear noises from the computer inside. She smiled to herself and cleared her throat quietly before she lifted her fist and landed three uniform knocks on the hardwood. The noise stopped after a second and she could hear something clatter and Rachel cursing. She released a chuckle, glad to know that she wasn't the only one who's nervous. She waited patiently for Rachel to gather herself and open the door.

The door finally swung open; a microsecond pause of time as they stared at each other from either side. It was ironic how their physical situation was similar to their metaphorical one. One was outside the door and one inside. They could choose to go one way or the other. Out or in. It was completely in their hands.

The girls wore matching nervous smiles, though Quinn's appeared more confident. The brunette released a disbelieving laugh and nodded to Quinn. "Hi," she greeted breathlessly.

Quinn's smile only widened at her voice. "Hey," she replied.

The other woman stared at her for a moment longer before clearing her throat, realizing they were still standing at the door. She stepped aside and motioned for Quinn to enter with a sheepish smile. Quinn strode carefully into the room and tensed slightly when she heard the definitive click of the door closing.

She spun on her feet to face Rachel who was leaning back against the door with a wistful and appreciative look on her face. Quinn's cheeks flushed red at her scrutiny. Only Rachel Berry was capable of making her feel so bare and special.

They took the next twenty or so minutes staring at each other, memorizing every single detail. Not that they needed much memorizing. They were…recalling. Remembering, to put it in one way. Rachel looked down at her feet with a smile and then back up at Quinn. She pushed away from the door and in a few steps; she was pressed up against Quinn. Her hands encircled Quinn's neck to pull her down for a kiss.

Quinn stopped breathing as she relished in the kiss. Her arms instinctively locked themselves around Rachel's waist as she leaned down for a more intimate approach. Their lips explored one another. Quinn's tongue traveled each and every crevice and arch of Rachel's mouth, recalling the details and remembering their shared kisses.

Rachel was having a similar experience as she pulled harder on Quinn's neck. She felt the urge to pull Quinn closer despite their bodies already molded to each other, leaving no space between. She missed this. She loved this. She loved Quinn. It was the only persevering thought in her head nowadays.

However, as addictive and enjoyable kissing each other was, oxygen was necessary for them to live. So they reluctantly released one another with a pop. They leaned their foreheads against one another and breathed against each other's skin. Rachel's eyes closed as she took her time reveling the feeling of Quinn's arms around her.

It had been too long.

"We really need to talk," Quinn finally whispered and sneaked a subtle kiss against her cheek. Rachel nodded but she didn't let go. They swayed on the spot for a few more moments before Quinn chuckled and kissed her cheek again. "Rachel, come on. My brain can't really function like this."

Laughter bubbled inside Rachel's chest and left her mouth, creating a beautiful melody to Quinn's ears. They leaned back enough to see the others face and eventually untangled their limbs from around one another. Rachel's hand traveled down Quinn's arm and gripped her hand. She led her to the couch and sat her down before making her way to the mini bar in the study.

"You want something to drink?" she asked, brewing herself a gin tonic.

"Whiskey," Quinn said instantly.

Rachel smiled to herself. Quinn always loved whiskey. She took a bottle from the cabinet and presented it to Quinn with a grin. Quinn's returning grin was enough to tell her that she remembered too.

It was the whisky they shared when they first met.

Quinn muttered a quiet thanks as Rachel handed her the glass. She sighed gratefully when the brunette decided to not sit next to her, choosing instead to sit at the desk. She wasn't sure if she would be able to think coherently if Rachel had chosen to sit too close to her.

"So what happens now?" Leave it to Rachel to be the one to cut to the chase.

The blonde smiled affectionately at the reminder. She took another gulp of her drink before she looked up to see the actress staring at her expectantly. "We can't be girlfriends," she stated. The fallen look on Rachel's face urged her to continue. "I want to, but my job doesn't allow me to. I can't build a relationship with my employer. It's unprofessional."

Understanding dawned upon Rachel. She wrapped her hand around back of her neck and leaned against her desk. "So what are we?"

Quinn smirked. "That doesn't mean we can't be covert." Rachel raised a brow. "You know, sneak a little something something here and there. Santana won't mind. Besides, she assigned me to you because she knows I'd be much more biased when you're the case."

Rachel mirrored Quinn's smirk and hummed. "I can see army didn't change your rebellious side."

"Be grateful for it."

"I am." Quinn gulped at the look on the brunette's face and the darkening of her eyes. Rachel sobered and she gulped. "Does this mean…you trust me?" she finally asked the question.

The mood in the room suddenly turned somber and serious, weighing down on them. Quinn scrutinized Rachel as she gathered her own thoughts. She tried analyzing but failed. The fact of the matter was that no analyzing would come to fruition when dealing with Rachel Berry. So she just sifted through her thoughts and stared. Ten minutes of silence and Quinn found her answer. She smiled at the answer.

"Yeah," she said softly. "I trust you."

Rachel couldn't help the grin spreading on her face. "Does this mean…I can say I love you without you fighting back?" she asked again.

"I think I answered that question this morning, Miss Berry," Quinn replied with a quirk of her eyebrow.

"I like it when I hear verbal answers."

Quinn rolled her eyes and huffed. She shook her head in affection at Rachel's determination. She looked her in the eyes and said, "Yes, I will let you love me."

Rachel's eyes darkened at her husky tone but still managed to sparkle as she asked, "Will you love me?" in a low voice.

There was no pause or stop when the blonde replied with full commitment, "I never stopped."

And then Rachel was out of her chair in lightning speed and was throwing herself into Quinn's lap. Quinn had barely prepared herself when the tiny ball of force lunged herself into her arms; she was welcoming nonetheless.

Her lips were smothered almost instantly and she didn't stop Rachel. She tightened her arms around the brunette and deepened the kiss instead. After god knows how long, Rachel leaned back and buried her face into Quinn's neck, breathing her in.

"Stay," she murmured.

Quinn realized there was no way she could say no at this point. So she nodded and kissed the top of Rachel's head.


	16. best friends

She didn't have to open her eyes to know that she wasn't in her bedroom in the pool house. In fact, she wasn't even in the pool house. Quinn frowned at the weird, yet comfortingly familiar dead weight sprawled over her right arm. She blinked her eyes slowly, taking in her surroundings. Her frown only deepened.

_Where the hell am I?_

She inhaled and a whiff of apple and lavender reached her nostrils. Well, that smelled familiar. She looked down and saw a tiny brunette wrapped in her arms, her head lying on her right arm. Rachel. Quinn realized they were spooning. Her eyes widened slightly.

The previous night's events came rushing to her head and a wide smile spread on her face. She tightened her arms and buried her face in Rachel's hair, inhaling more of her unique scent. It felt so good to finally have this. It felt so good to have Rachel back in her arms. It felt so much like heaven to be able to fall asleep with her.

There was no one else who could make her feel so much the way Rachel could, Quinn was positive of that. She shifted slightly and moved her head to stick her face into Rachel's neck. She landed a kiss on Rachel smooth skin before closing her eyes and enjoying these last few hours of ecstasy before they had to get up and get back to work.

She knew Rachel was awake when her breathing pattern shifted slightly and she released a soft moan; Quinn wouldn't have even been aware if she hadn't felt the vibrations in Rachel's throat. She smiled. She missed this too. Her eyes remained closed as she pretended to still be asleep.

There were a few moments of stillness between them as they stayed in their blissful bubble, both reminiscing on how often they had awoken like this; in each other's arms and completely carefree. Except now, they did have things to worry about. Most importantly, the danger Rachel was still in and Quinn's job to keep her safe. Neither one wanted to think of those things in that moment.

Quinn heard Rachel chuckled knowingly and Quinn's smile broadened ever so slightly. "I know you're not sleeping," Rachel muttered, her voice still throaty ad she had just awakened from a very peaceful and enjoyable slumber.

"And how would you know?" she muttered against Rachel's skin, unwilling to remove herself from Rachel's very supple and very kissable neck. She felt Rachel quiver slightly and smirked. She nuzzled deeper and blew a raspberry. Rachel giggled and squirmed, pushing her head away forcefully. Quinn moaned, "Ow."

She rubbed the top of her head and opened her eyes to see Rachel had already turned around and was facing her with a grin. "Serves you right," Rachel said without even a hint of apology.

Quinn raised a brow as a mischievous grin overtook her features. "Oh yeah?" she drawled. Rachel's eyes widened and she squeaked as she squirmed away. Rachel was unable to escape Quinn's quick reflexes as the blonde had her in her grip in a matter of seconds and she began tickling Rachel's sides. "You ain't going nowhere, woman!" she roared in a playful tone.

Rachel squealed and giggled and tried to squirm away. "Oh my god! S-stop! Quinn, please stop!" she squealed between pants and giggles.

"Say uncle!" Quinn replied, her hands not ceasing.

"No!"

"Alright then!" She resumed her tickling assault and Rachel squealed and begged again. "Say uncle!"

"Okay, okay! Uncle!" Rachel gave up fighting.

Quinn's hands stopped but didn't leave Rachel's hips. She looked down on Rachel as she straddled the brunette. They were both panting with laughter and Quinn realized that she was currently very turned on. Rachel's tousled morning hair and pants and just her freaking face were turning her on. And their situation really wasn't helping much.

The blonde's hand reached up to brush Rachel's hair back and their eyes locked. Rachel's eyes were a shade darker and Quinn snickered a little, knowing that Rachel was as turned on as she was. Her hand cupped Rachel's cheek and stroked it as her head lowered bit by bit. She paused when their lips were only millimeters apart.

Rachel gulped. Her heart was pounding against Quinn's chest and her hands were sweating. She wrapped one of her hands around Quinn's neck while the other landed gently on her back as they searched each other's eyes for a moment longer. Rachel found herself unable to restrain herself any longer as she used her hand to pull Quinn down, her own head lifting to meet the blonde halfway.

The blonde's breath hitched and she moaned. Her hand moved away from Rachel's cheek to support herself on the bed. Her other arm closed around Rachel's waist and lifted her, their hips colliding.

Rachel gasped and grunted at the pleasurable feeling running through her core. She could hear the blood rushing up to her head and she felt slightly dizzy. She reached to cup Quinn's cheek and kissed the blonde like they might never kiss again after this. It might as well have been, since they wouldn't be able to do this while working.

Quinn shifted her supporting hand, dropping them abruptly on the bed; their bodies seeming to fall perfectly in place with each other. Rachel giggled into the kiss, giving a little squeak of surprise and a whimper when Quinn bit into her lower lip. That turned her on more than anything.

Quinn's hand began touching her in places that she had not been touched in ages. And god, they had never felt this good. Nobody could touch her better than Quinn. She just knew where to touch and how to touch her and Rachel appreciated Quinn's…extensive knowledge to her body's reactions more than ever.

The actress' pants against Quinn's lips grew quicker when her fingers brushed the sides of her breasts. Quinn's hands traveled down her sides, one landing on her hip while the other cupped her ass. Rachel arched her back and moaned louder when Quinn's lips left hers and moved down to her neck, sucking lightly, careful to not leave any mark.

"Quinn," she whimpered and winced at how needy she sounded.

Quinn hummed. She wasn't feeling any better either. Rachel's kisses and sounds fueled the hunger inside her and she was doing all she could to not do the ungodly and just take Rachel right here on her bed. Her tongue extended and licked Rachel's smooth skin, causing another moan to fall from the other girls' lips.

The brunette's hand left Quinn's face and trekked down Quinn's clothed back, tenderly touching each curve and arch of her back before landing just slightly above her ass. Her thumb began to stroke the crack of Quinn's ass, drawing a wanton moan from the blonde, who was still worshiping her neck.

Quinn laid one last kiss on Rachel's neck before she pulled back, propping one of her elbows on the mattress so she could see Rachel's face and not drop on top of her. Her gaze traveled Rachel's face, lingering on her hairline, her eyes, her nose, her ears; just everywhere. Quinn wondered if she would ever grow tired of looking at this woman under her.

Rachel's breath quickened as she watched Quinn scrutinizing her. She never felt comfortable when people stared at her, despite being a celebrity and all; especially not after the first threatening letter. Oddly enough, Quinn's stare only made her feel warm and sexy…and inevitably turned her on. "Why are you looking at me like that?" Rachel broke the heavy silence between them.

Quinn's eyes locked with Rachel's and she gulped. "I just…love you," she whispered. "So much," she added.

Rachel smiled lovingly at Quinn and extended her arm to bury her hand in tangled blonde hair, tousling it more. She leaned up and kissed her and pulled back again. "I love you too."

Quinn returned her smile and leaned for another kiss before reluctantly rolling off Rachel and sliding out of the bed. She turned back and tried her best to ignore the pout on Rachel's face as she headed towards the chair to gather her things from last night and pick up her hearing aid. She didn't bother putting it back in since she planned to take it out before showering anyway.

"I have to go back and change so I can do my job. Which is protecting you," she said with a reluctant smile and headed back to Rachel to kiss her on the forehead. "I'll see you later," she whispered before going out. She made sure to shut the door before walking down the hallway to the stairs.

It was a silent morning. She glanced at her watch to see it was only 7:15. She had plenty of time to change before she had to meet everyone in the garage at 9:00. Rachel had a late call time today. The smile on her face never faded as she climbed down the staircase and turned to the kitchen. She didn't want to alert anyone by going out the front door.

She paused in her steps when she saw Marley and Puck in the kitchen, having some toast. It was a surprise to see Puck up so early in the morning. Her brows raised in curiosity and distrust as she eyed both of them and they her.

"What are you doing?" she asked, suspicion laced in her voice as she frowned.

Puck brushed his bald head with his palm and smirked at her. "Well, well, well, look who's up," he drawled.

She shrugged and jerked her chin towards them, not even bothering to give them an explanation of sorts. "So what are you doing here?"

"As far as I'm concerned, I live here until our job is done," Puck said.

"But you're never up early."

His grin turned almost lecherous, and he licked his lower lip and smacked them together. "Marley here caught in my walk of shame, which isn't really that shameful since I'm never shy after sex."

She narrowed her eyes. "Who the hell could you possibly hook up with in this mansion?" Quinn asked, more like squeaked.

"I'll have you know that Miss Berry has a very…extensive group of staff," he said with a grin. "And you don't notice them because your eyes haven't left Berrylicious since the first day, while I managed to get some eye candy and even went deep into one while at it."

Marley blushed, suddenly finding the contents of her coffee cup to be the most interesting thing in the world. Quinn rolled her eyes. "Just don't get yourself into any trouble," she muttered. "Have you even showered yet? Your face is ridiculous."

Puck bit into his cracker and talked with his mouth full. He always loved talking with his mouth full. "I'm going to in fifteen. I've just found out that Marley's sort of dating my brother."

Quinn smirked at the girl who blushed slight under her scrutiny. She headed towards the backdoor, ignoring the almost pleading look Marley was shooting her way. "Good luck, Rose. And don't harass her too much, Puck."

The door swung closed behind her and she stood there for a moment, breathing in the fresh air and taking in the oddly refreshing sight of the backyard. She wondered when it had turned into such a beautiful place. It was probably the fact that she had finally made up with Rachel that inspired her good mood today.

She trudged down the pebbled path to the pool house, enjoying the fresh air and listening to the birds chirping. She fished out her keys from her jacket and unlocked the door. Just then, Sam came out of her bedroom wiping his hair dry with a towel. He was dressed in a gray T-shirt and boxers. The smirk on her face widened at the Darth Vader cartoon art on his boxers.

He rolled his eyes at her and proceeded to ignore her as he went to the kitchen. "If you want coffee, you better keep your mouth shut," he snapped.

She shrugged to herself and went into her bedroom, making sure to lock the door before she threw herself onto the bed and shrieked into her pillow. It'd been pent up inside her since yesterday and she would never ever do something as childish as this in front of Rachel. She was grateful that she got to release her pent up excitement before she exploded.

She lifted her head from the pillow and rolled onto her back, panting. She stared up at the ceiling fan with a giddy grin on her face as her senses began to seep back into her brain and she realized she still hadn't showered and changed. She hauled herself out of the bed and began to strip as she walked into the bathroom, leaving a trail of garments behind her as she closed the door.

Quinn brushed her teeth thoroughly, taking good care of her dental hygiene. After that, she took her time lathering her body with soap and washing her hair; she hadn't had the chance to shower the night before. She finished rinsing the suds off, finally satisfied in her cleanliness when she distinctly heard Puck yelling from the other side of the bedroom door.

She rolled her eyes and stepped out of the shower stall, grabbing the towel from the hook behind the door and wiping herself dry with it. She stepped out of the bedroom door and could hear Puck grumbling on the other side of the door. She got dressed, put on her shoulder holster, strapped in both of her guns and pulled on her jacket. She just loved this jacket. Only then did she open the door to a very annoyed looking Puck.

He glared at her, his arms across his chest. She smiled at him sweetly and made a flourishing gesture, inviting him in. "What the hell took you so long? You can't wash that sex smell off you one way or another," he grumbled and pushed past her with a wad of clothes tucked under his arm.

The smile on her face never faltered. She was in a damn awesome mood today. She hummed. "Not like you can."

He flashed her a fishy grin and shook his head, his hand already closing the door. "Oh I don't intend to." Then he closed it.

She shook her head and turned towards the kitchen where Sam was sitting at the island, eating his grilled cheese. She sat down opposite him and stared at him expectantly. He stared back at her, slowly chewing on the bite he just took.

"What?" he finally asked.

"Where's my sandwich?"

"I didn't make one for you," he answered nonchalantly and shoved the rest of his sandwich into his mouth, licking his fingers in the process. "Make it yourself." He gathered the plate and the empty cup and put them in the sink.

Her phone buzzed, and she pulled it out to check it as she glowered at Sam's back as he washed his dishes. She grinned as she looked down at her phone, seeing that the message was from Rachel.

 _I made you breakfast_.

Quickly, she typed out a text and hit send.  _I'm almost afraid to taste it._

Rachel's reply came not even one minute later.  _Quinn Fabray, you will come eat this meal or I will personally bring it there to you. I don't care if you have 2 Neantherdals there._

Quinn chuckled and pocketed the mobile device, already sliding out her chair to do her lady's bidding. Sam glanced at her over his shoulder. She could barely see the curious look on his face. She waved goodbye at him before striding out the door and walked back up the path she'd just taken forty minutes ago.

Rachel, Kurt, Santana, Brittany and Marley were sitting around the island when she came in. She raised her brow at them and her face brightened more – if that was even possible – when she caught a glimpse of the plate of bacon, French toast and baked beans on the surface. It was placed in front of the seat between Rachel and Santana.

Santana took a single look at her and grimaced. She groaned and turned to Brittany and mock-whispered, "It's only been twenty-four hours and they're already acting like sappy shitheads."

Quinn smirked when Rachel gasped dramatically and didn't even hesitate to smack the Latina on the arm. Santana rolled her eyes and just stabbed at her omelet. Quinn seated herself between her best friend and her sort-of-girlfriend-but-not-yet-girlfriend. She flashed the rest of occupants of the kitchen a smile before she began to wolf down the French toast and baked beans, leaving the bacon for last.

"Leaving the best for last, huh? I see there's a part of you that still hasn't changed," Rachel commented softly, smiling tenderly at the blonde. Quinn gave her a cheeky smile before cutting a piece of bacon and putting it in her mouth. "I'm glad."

The blonde very nearly released a very sexual moan when the bacon's flavor exploded all over her taste buds. Rachel's bacon was always the best. Maybe it was because she took the effort to make them despite herself being a vegan. Or perhaps it was simply because she was just a good cook.

"Oh my god, I forgot how good your bacon is," she proclaimed.

"Gross," Santana muttered from next to her. "Next thing you know she'll be kneeling at Rachel's legs, worshipping her."

The blonde pretended not to hear her and quickly devoured the rest of the bacon on the plate, wiping it clean. Before she could say anything, her head was turned and Rachel dabbing at her mouth with a paper napkin. Rachel had a loving smile on her face as she wiped away the oil around Quinn's lips. Quinn blushed slightly under their companions' amused looks. Rachel released her chin when she was done, discarding the napkin in the garbage.

Quinn turned back and looked up to see everyone smiling at them as though they were the cutest people alive; besides Santana, who was shaking her head and cursing under her breath while chewing her breakfast. She could see Marley subtly giving her thumbs up and a grin. Quinn rolled her eyes at them and decided to not say anything.

"You do know this is against policy, right?" Santana finally said out loud, still not looking at any of them.

"Oh, do you really have to be such a spoilsport!" Kurt hissed at the Latina. "This place is actually peaceful and tension free for the first time since she stepped foot here!"

Santana looked up at him with a ridiculous expression. "Are you kidding me? Tension free? It will never be tension free whenever they're around each other. Trust me. They're bunnies ready to jump each other at any given chance."

The actress couldn't help but blush at Santana's uncannily accurate description while Quinn's subordinate was staring at them with wide eyes. Quinn put her hand on Rachel's knee and squeezed it gently and reassuringly. She turned to Santana with a smile on her face. Santana stared back weirdly.

"You shouldn't have asked that question in the first place since you're the one who placed me here, Lopez," Quinn stated.

"I never actually thought that  _this_  might happen," replied Santana. "You two were like…arguing and crying and shit and it was totally impossible for you to actually get back together. Wait, are you two together?" she asked, squinting at them.

The blonde glanced at Rachel. "No," she said resolutely. She squeezed again, giving her a reassuring smile. "We're not together." Kurt looked ready to explode while Brittany and Marley looked confused. Santana raised a skeptical brow. Quinn almost hated the fact that the woman knew her so well. "Not officially," she finally added. Now, even Kurt looked confused. "Because of this job restriction, Rachel and I are not officially back together. But we'd appreciate it if you guys would…turn a blind eye if you accidentally witnessed something." She winked playfully for good measures.

"So you two are together?" Kurt then asked.

Rachel shook her head and discreetly laid her hand on top of Quinn's on her knee. "No, we're not," she confirmed.

"Not officially," Quinn added.

"What the hell does that mean?" Marley cut in before Kurt could and the man gave her a grateful look. "How can you be together but not officially? How does that even work?"

Quinn narrowed her eyes at Marley, silently asking her to back down. Marley refused to budge. She knew her and Quinn were on friendly terms and wasn't even ashamed to say that she was using that to her advantage.

"Well?" she repeated, eyebrow cocked. She learned that from Quinn. Poor girl didn't know she would never do it as good as Quinn Fabray.

Rachel grew tired of their inquiries and, frankly, lack of comprehension skills. She caught a glimpse of a smirking Santana, who had nonchalantly gone back to eating her omelet. Rachel wondered briefly how long it took Santana to eat a freaking omelet. It also seemed to her that Santana had understood what they meant perfectly. Seriously, was Santana the only with common sense in this room?

"To put it simply, we're what they call friends with benefits," Rachel said in an annoyed tone. She saw Santana's smirk widened and rolled her eyes, quickly adding, "Without the sex."

Kurt blinked at his best friend/client. "Wait, you guys haven't had sex?" he asked, his tone incredulous. "What were you doing the whole time last night if you weren't tumbling in the hay?" he nearly shrieked.

"Jesus Christ, Hummel, can you quiet down? My team is almost all here and they can hear you!" Quinn glared at him.

He had the decency to look sheepish but the curiosity in his eyes did not fade away. He was still staring at them like they were the greatest wonders in the world and he would not stop until he dug up the treasure hidden within.

"We're not like  _some_  people who can't get their hands off each other whenever and wherever they are!" Rachel said pointedly. "And we had only got here now. We still have a lot to figure out."

"Oh don't even turn this on me and Britts," Santana said, having finally finished eating her omelet. "You two were no better when you were all lovey dovey and sweet and all that shit years ago."

Quinn didn't even bother protesting because she knew the Latina was kind of right  _and_  she didn't want to drag this conversation out any longer. Instead, she asked, "So when are you going back to DC, Lopez?"

"What? So eager for me to leave already?" Santana asked, giving Quinn an unamused look.

"Not that I don't appreciate your concern and all that jazz. But you do have a life of your own in DC. You work for the president. You have armies to manage and more cases like Rachel's to handle. Plus, Brittany can't take any more days off than she had so far. And my understanding was the reason you were here in the first place was because Sam called you for help," Quinn stated. "So, when are you going back?" she asked again.

Santana rolled her eyes and suppressed the urge to comment that Quinn seemed to be infected by Rachel's ranting disease. She was damn sure it was some kind of incurable disease. "Friday," she muttered. Brittany reached out hold her hand and Santana gave her an appreciative smile. "I've looked up flights and I've booked tickets for this Friday. So don't do anything drastic that'll delay me and make me stay in this god-awful place and go to that smelly set for longer."

"When were you going tell us?" Quinn asked, sounding a little disappointed that her best friend didn't even take the time to tell her.

"Thursday," murmured Santana.

"Santana," Rachel chastised softly when she saw Quinn closed her eyes shortly at her answer. "You should've told us earlier."

The Latina sighed. She propped her elbow on the island top and supported her head with her hand as she stared at Quinn. "You were stuck in bed. You were sad. You were half-deaf." Rachel looked ready to protest again but Santana shut her up with a look. "You hadn't made your choices on whether to get an aid – which, thank god you did. You were hovering, for the lack of better words. And I was  _worried_. Brittany was worried. I only made plans when you finally made your choice. But mind you, I was still worried; I wanted to make sure everything was going smoothly before I left. Not that it's gonna be smooth until you catch that bastard. So excuse me for not wanting to tell you until I'm  _sure_."

Quinn finally opened her eyes. She could distinctly hear Marley sliding out of her stool, muttering about getting ready and escaping the room. Her hazel green eyes remained on Santana, who looked frustrated and apologetic.

Before she could get a word in, Santana continued, "I can totally understand why you look so disappointed. If I were you, I would've yelled at you and probably kicked some chairs." She took a deep breath and her face crumpled in that instance. "You are my  _best_  friend. You're the only one I've got besides Brittany. And I am so fucking worried about you. You didn't even see yourself, but you were so sad. And I was…I couldn't…I didn't know how to help, okay? All I can do is stay here. I mean, screw my job. Screw my salary. 'Cause I really don't know what I'd do without you. I can't see you go down and not  _be_  here for you. You have no idea how relieved I was when I saw you and the midget practically glowing yesterday. You looked…you looked high on life and that's what I wanted for you. But I still wanted to make sure that it's all good and you're not the Sergeant Quinn Fabray who had absolutely no direction in her future at all."

She was openly crying now and she desperately tried to wipe her tears away. Brittany wrapped her arms around Santana's neck from behind and buried her face in her girlfriend's neck, soothing her and crying a little as well. Rachel and Kurt both looked sympathetic and slightly impressed by the depth of their friendship. Quinn choked on a sob and surged forward to hug both Santana and Brittany in her arms, tightening her arms around them as they wept in each other's arms.

"Thank you," Quinn choked out. "Thank you for being here. Just thank you." Her head twisted slightly to kiss Santana's cheek and then Brittany's next. "You guys are the best friends to have in the whole wide world."

"Holy shit." Rachel and Kurt turned to the back door to see Puck and Sam standing there, shock and still. The trio – the Unholy Trinity – seemed to have not heard them. Puck whispered at the pair of spectators, "What the fuck happened?"

Kurt shook his head and wiped the edges of his eyes before he gestured wildly into the air, insinuating that it was hard to explain. Puck and Sam stared at him as though he had eight arms and horns. Rachel rolled her eyes and waved them away. They watched the trio for a moment longer before they obediently walked out, rounding past them and through the kitchen to the foyer.

It took them almost twenty minutes for the waterworks to subside and finally release each other. Santana wiped the tear tracks from Brittany's face with sleeve of her jacket while Rachel did the same to Quinn. When Santana was done with Brittany, the dancer helped wiping Santana's away. After they were sure the tear tracks were gone, Santana gathered her composure and leveled Rachel and Kurt with a warning glare.

"If one word of what happened here slips out, I will personally hunt you down and dump pig's blood on you," she growled.

Kurt gulped and cleared his throat. "Um…Puck and Sam saw you just now so…" he drifted, looking ready to run for his safety at any moment.

Santana's glare grew fiercer, if that was possible. She swiftly slid from her stool and stalked out the kitchen to find the two men, probably to give them a warning as well. Gradually, the other occupants of the room stood up as well. Brittany gave Quinn a squeeze before leaving with Kurt, following Santana's path out the door.

Quinn stepped closer to Rachel and held onto her hands tightly, sniffling. Rachel pouted with a pitiful look on her face. "Aw baby," she said softly and stood on her tiptoes to wrap her arms around Quinn's neck, pulling her down for an embrace. "I know you're gonna miss them but you'll see them soon. I promise." She took the chance to inhale Quinn's unique smell.

The bodyguard whimpered and nuzzled deeper into Rachel's hair. She felt her hearing aid shifting a little and she made a note to readjust it later. "I love you," she whispered.

Rachel smiled. She knew she would never get tired of hearing that proclamation from Quinn ever. "I love you too. So much." She squeezed before leaning back, without disentangling her limbs around Quinn. "We'll be okay," she reassured, stroking Quinn's cheek.

"I know."

She leaned down to kiss Rachel because she did know. They would be okay.


	17. friend or foe

Rachel had been wondering where Dustin Goolsby had been for quite some time now. The producer had never been absent from the set this long before. In fact, he had been AWOL about a month; since the incident with Quinn. Her curiosity over the situation only strengthened at the displeasure evident on Quinn, Santana, Sam and Marley's faces when they learned he was not in once again.

Santana looked particularly ferocious. It was as if she wanted to murder Dustin. Sam sported a similar look.

Rachel was unable to fully focus on Artie as he gave them directions on their scenes for the day; her eyes lingered on the quartet. Oddly enough, Puck wasn't included in the group while Marley was. Rachel's frown deepened at that sight. She was snapped out of her thoughts – literally – when Artie clicked his fingers in front of her face. She managed to keep the displeased look from her face and tried to fully focus on him.

She hated it when people snapped their fingers in her face. It was annoying and made her feel like an amateur. However, Artie Abrams was the director and, without him, the movie would never be complete. So she kept it in and listened to him.

Her eyes wandered over his head once again toward where the quartet were still animatedly talking. Santana was flinging her arms around while Quinn seemed to be trying to calm her down. Sam and Marley were watching them like a couple of puppies with entirely no direction. She made a note to ask Quinn what was going on before returning her attention back to Artie.

"Alright! All set!" one of the setup crew yelled and Artie gave him a thumbs up.

He clapped his gloved hands once and smiled at Rachel and Kitty. "Okay, you guys know what to do. Let's get started!"

Rachel sat in her chair and went over her script once again, revising her lines and considering whether to ad lib in some places. She was so focused that she didn't hear the the person approaching her from behind until they put their hand gently on her shoulder. She yelped and twisted around to see Finn's gleeful face staring down at her. He was wearing casual clothes with a baseball cap on his head and a huge grin on his face. Her hand flew to her chest and she panted for a moment before she reached out to slap him on his chest.

Her hand flew to her chest and she panted for a moment before she reached out to slap him on his chest. "Hudson! You nearly gave me a heart attack!"

His shoulders shook and he tipped the bill of his cap at her. "Sorry," he apologized with a laugh. "I just wanted to surprise you."

She released a sigh and stood up, sidestepped her chair and wrapped her arms around his huge torso. "What are you doing here?" she asked when they finally pulled away.

He pointed over his shoulder with his thumb and stuck his hands into his jeans pockets. "I had to clean up my trailer. I've been busy for the past couple of days. And I wanted to see how Quinn was doing so far with the aid and all that."

"Aw," she drew out. "That's sweet of you."

He laughed again and asked, "Where is she anyway?"

She grinned. "She's over the-" She stopped abruptly when she saw that Quinn had gone. In fact, only Sam remained. She frowned and glanced around her but there was no sign of Quinn or anyone else for that matter. "Weird," she mumbled. "She was just over there." She pointed at Sam.

Finn looked over his shoulder and waved to Sam, which Sam returned with a mock salute. He turned back around to Rachel and shrugged. "She probably had to do her job. You can't take a job like as protecting the great Rachel Berry easily," he sniggered and she mock glared at him. He adjusted his cap and took a step back. "Anyway, I gotta go. Artie's calling for you. Maybe we could grab lunch during your break later. Whaddaya think?"

She smiled and nodded. "Yeah, I'd love that. See you later, Finn." She waved at him before turning back around to do her job.

* * *

Her phone buzzed in her pocket as she made her way out of what used to be Finn's trailer. Ever since the bomb incident, she refused to skip checking any of the trailers on set. She didn't want to be careless. No stone left unturned, she figured.

She stood on top of the steps and pulled out her phone from her back pocket. A smile spread across her face when she saw who the text was from. She unlocked her phone and clicked on the text from Sebastian. She hadn't heard from him and she had begun to wonder where he'd gone to.

_Hey there, tiger. Just wanna check in on you and see how you're doing._

She slowly made her way down the stairs, glancing up once she reached the bottom to see if she was missing anything suspicious. When she was sure everything was clear, she began to type a reply to Sebastian.

_Well well well, the almighty firefighter finally made his appearance. I thought you found another new friend. A lot has happened since the last time you came to my rescue. Thank you for that, hero._

She didn't bother pocketing her phone and started walking down the long line of trailers. She frowned when she saw a familiar tall and awkward figure walking towards her. He had a baseball cap on so she couldn't see his face, but she was sure she knew who it was. She quickened her strides and another grin tugged on her lips when she finally confirmed her suspicions.

Finn wore his usual goofy grin, and he pulled his cap back a little before extending his arms towards her. She reached out and practically threw herself at him, wrapping her arms around his neck while his settled around her waist. She yelped when he suddenly picked her up without warning and spun her around a few times before putting her back down on the ground. When she gained solid footing, she laughed at him and pulled down his cap.

"Finn Hudson, what are you doing here?" she asked, a little too happily. She was surprised to find how much she had missed him, despite only a few days having passed since their last meeting.

"I have to clean up my trailer and then I'm officially out of here," he offered. "Until the wrap party, that is." Then he shrugged. "And I also want to see how my opponent in Call of Duty is doing."

She laughed and smacked him playfully on the chest. "I totally took you out gloriously."

His expression turned serious and he leaned towards her, pointing his forefinger in her direction. "We gotta have a rematch," he whispered seriously.

She arched an eyebrow and crossed her arms with a smirk. "Bring it, Hudson."

He chuckled and straightened. "Alright, soldier. I gotta go pack up. What do you say we grab lunch later? During Rachel's lunch break."

"Sounds good."

He nodded and waved goodbye before jogging past her towards his trailer. She glanced over her shoulder and couldn't help but laugh again.  _God_  it's a good day. Then she realized her phone was blaring and she hastily answered the call.

"What do you mean  _a lot_?" Sebastian's voice crackled through the speaker. "What did you do? What happened?"

Quinn rolled her eyes and started walking again, sticking her free hand into her jeans pocket. "Calm down, Sebastian."

"What happened?" Sebastian persisted. Quinn sighed and took a deep breath before she began to fill him in on the whole story. She could feel his concern and anger increasing as each second passed. She continued her surveillance of the area as she talked to Sebastian, ensuring there were no threats to be seen.

"I'm gonna kill that son of a bitch," he gritted out when she was done with the story.

"No, you aren't," Quinn said calmly. "I won't let you. We are going to let the police handle this, as soon as we get the guy. And we are going to be civil. You are not going to do anything murderous."

Sebastian sighed resignedly. They spoke a bit longer, Sebastian mentioned visiting sometime in the future, and she told him she had to check with Rachel first and have his name added to the logbook of approved visitors. She didn't tell him about the recent advances in her relationship with Rachel.

She felt like it wasn't something she should do over the phone. He was...interested in her after all. And she actually did appreciate him as a friend. It just didn't feel right and a bit unfair to tell him over the phone. So she made a note to tell him when they would meet. She pocketed her phone and stood in a corner with a smile as she watched Rachel work. It felt good, having talked to a friend. He was a new friend, yes, but he saved her life so she owed him that. And she actually liked talking to him so that was a plus.

She distinctly heard Artie yell cut and her smile spread into a grin as Rachel walked away from the bedroom setup and towards her chair. Their eyes met across the set and Rachel let out a giggle before turning her back to the blonde and sitting. Not long after, Quinn's phone buzzed in her pocket again.

Quinn chuckled and shook her head while taking it out. She had no doubt who it could be. She raised her eyebrow and mentally patted herself on the back for being right when she saw who sent the text.

_You need to stop staring at me like that or I swear I will not be discreet. Besides, discretion isn't exactly my forte._

The bodyguard laughed and tucked a hair behind her ear as she looked up to see Rachel smirking at her over her shoulder. She shook her head and looked back down on her phone when it buzzed again.

 _I love you, by the way_.

Quinn wasn't sure if her heart melted or if her brain got smoked because she certainly didn't have a clear head at the moment. Six simple words destroyed her.  _So_  pleasantly. She fought the shiver from running down her spine and cleared her throat. Without looking up, in fear that her already weak knees would buckle at the sight of Rachel Berry, her fingers tapped gracefully over the keyboard.

 _And you need to stop talking like that if you want me to stay here and do my job properly, Rachel Berry_.

She heard a loud laugh from Rachel and couldn't help but laugh herself. She looked up, only to catch Rachel staring at her again. She raised a challenging brow and smirked at the brunette. She watched Rachel taking a sharp breath and her eyes darkening before hastily turning back around as though she had seen something terrifying. Only she knew it was something she loved yet couldn't have. At least not yet.

* * *

"Quinn."

She turned to see Santana standing next to her. Oddly, Brittany wasn't anywhere to be found. They couple had been gone most of the day. Quinn had been pondering where they had been going these past few days while they were on set. They would often disappear for the majority of the day, returning just before everyone was readying to leave the sound stage.

She frowned a little and turned back to watch Rachel touching up at the dressing table. "Santana."

Santana hummed quietly next to her and then sighed heavily. She could even sense the tension coiling within Santana's body next to her, but she decided not to ask. Santana would come out with it when she was ready. Fifteen uncomfortably silent minutes passed between them before Santana cleared her throat.

"I need to bring you somewhere later," Santana finally told Quinn.

Quinn turned to Santana with an amused smile. "That's it? It took you fifteen minutes to say that? Who are you and what happened to Santana Lopez?"

What diminished her humor and amusement was the lack of anger and tactful response from Santana. She had a deadly serious look on her face and Quinn knew this was not a look Santana had worn for a very long time. Her smile faded and she frowned deeply.

She could see Santana swallowing and her eyes darting distractedly in Rachel's direction before she looked back at Quinn. "Since your accident, I've been digging a little deeper into everything. You know I can access almost every file in the secret service. FBI, CIA, you name it. I know you've had your suspicions on that Goolsby guy so I ran a deeper investigation into him. Here." She thrust a flash drive into Quinn's hand. "This drive has more intimate details on him than the one I gave you before. And everything else."

"What do you mean everything else?"

"You'll know when you open it. So here's the thing. I've been all over New York and I even went as far as Boston one time. I went to places he frequented. I went to his apartment and his house in the suburbs. I learned a little something about him from his friends here and there. And I finally got to this place this afternoon just at the border of New York. I think you should have a look at it."

"What place?"

Santana looked at her with wide eyes and said in a strained voice, "You would never believe me, you really need to see it for yourself."

* * *

Quinn borrowed a laptop from the tech team and laid it on the table to boot up while still keeping an eye on Rachel. She lay her walkie-talkie down next to it. Santana had already gone to look for her girlfriend, leaving the blonde alone to go through the flash drive.

When the laptop was up and running, she plugged in the thumb drive and opened the application. Her eyes widened as files upon files started flooding the window. Quinn had a slightly hard time trying to figure out which one she should see first, finally deciding upon a file that said criminal records.

Her breath hitched when she saw the records in their pure digital print displayed on the screen. Quinn felt bile rising up in her throat and nausea disturbing her stomach. She fought it down and scrolled down to see everything. To read everything. To get to know Dustin Goolsby once again.

She covered her mouth with her palm as her nearly overloaded brain processed everything she was reading.  _Theft. Drug trafficking. Prostitution ring._  Basically every single crime she could think of was there, typed out in bolded Times New Roman on the screen.

There were photos of Goolsby meeting some of the biggest mob leaders in the country. There were email correspondence between him and the mob leaders, written in street code. Dustin Goolsby had basically done…everything. The cops hadn't arrested him because he always had a solid alibi.

She lost it. She bolted from her chair and raced towards one of the port-o-potties, retching into the toilet bowl. She was panting and choking when she finished. She tiredly flushed the toilet and exited, grateful no one had seen her embarrassing display. She went back to the laptop and propped her elbows on the table. Her hands were pressed together, resting against her lips as she looked at the photo of Dustin laughing with a mob leader.

"God, who the hell are you?" she whispered brokenly.

* * *

"Quinn!"

She turned around, the door to Sam's car halfway opened. She closed her eyes when she saw Rachel jogging towards her with a curious look on her face. She opened them again and Rachel was standing right in front of her, her hair bundled up in a messy bun and dressed in a sweater and sweatpants.

Oh the things Quinn would give to be able to haul Rachel upstairs and kiss her senseless right now. She looked to Santana, telling her to leave them alone for a minute with her eyes. Santana caught on to the hint and left. Quinn turned back to Rachel and leaned forward to capture her lips. Rachel certainly was taken aback but she didn't push Quinn away, which she took as a good sign. Quinn pulled away from Rachel's lips with a pop and rested her forehead against Rachel's.

"Where are you going?" Rachel asked.

She didn't know what it was. Rachel didn't. She just felt something eating at her. The ride back from the set was tense and quiet and Rachel could see Quinn was struggling with something. She expected Quinn to go to her bedroom with her to spend some time together but the blonde only smiled at her when they got off the car and walked back to the pent house. And Quinn's current hesitance to answer only told her she was right.

"What is going on?" she asked again.

Quinn tangled her hands in Rachel's hair and stroked her scalp in a comforting motion. "I have to get some stuff done. It's nothing big." Her voice wavered as she spoke. Quinn mentally slapped herself for being so overwhelmed by everything. She was a professional, goddammit. Act like one. "I promise. I'll be back before you know it."

Rachel watched as Quinn began hiding her emotions in her eyes and sighed, knowing she would never get anything out of the blonde at this point. So she nodded and surged forward to kiss her again. "Be quick," she whispered against the woman's lips before pulling away.

The bodyguard forced a smile and leaned forward to slap Rachel's ass as she made her way out of the garage. The brunette yelped and spun on her heel, protecting her rear on instinct. She pretended to be scowling at Quinn but she couldn't keep the smile off her face. Quinn winked and waved. She watched as Rachel's silhouette disappeared into the dark and her smile slowly faded.

"Relax. It's not like you're gonna die." Santana walked in again. "Come on!" She darted in the driver's side of the car and Quinn followed. "Buckle up. We are going for a ride."

* * *

Quinn fidgeted with her fingers as they drove through the streets of New York, headed towards the borders – to wherever it was that Dustin Goolsby might have hid his secrets. She still found it hard to comprehend that her officer in charge, her best friend in Afghanistan, and her mentor was capable of the illegal actions listed on the drive and of more. He was her goddamn mentor. He knew about the letters. He knew about Rachel. He knew about everything. It wouldn't surprise any investigator out there that he would be the one behind all of it.

However, when it came to Quinn, it was a big surprise. She trusted him. He was such a good friend. He was a great man. He really was. If it was up to Quinn, she would say he was the most honorable man she had met on the field. And to think he would do something like this, especially when he knew that the victim was someone of high significance in Quinn's life, simply threw her.

Quinn buried half of her face into her hand and groaned quietly into it. This wasn't supposed to happen. It wasn't supposed to turn out like this.

"What are you thinking about?"

The blonde slowly removed her head from her hand and turned towards Santana with tired eyes. "Life is never going to be easy, is it?"

Santana laughed humorlessly and her grin vanished as she shook her head. "No, Q, I'm afraid not."

Quinn's finger played with the hearing aid in her ear as she looked out the window again. "Are we there yet?" she asked after some time.

They were at the border. She could see the docks in the distance. She could see the dark,  _dark_  sea waving beyond. She could see the full moon hanging low in the sky, its reflection bouncing of the surface of the water. It was a beautiful night. Quinn couldn't help but think that she should be spending it with Rachel instead of being here, looking for a place that might terminate half of everything she thought was true.

The car finally rolled in between two warehouses. The gravel crunching under the tires as it slowed to a stop. The warehouses looked rusty, old and abandoned. Quinn pushed the door open and stepped out, wrinkling her nose at the smell of dead fish and something chemical. She shut the car door, Santana following suit and rounding the car to stand next to Quinn.

She gestured at one of the warehouses and began walking towards a very small door set in the side of the warehouse. Quinn followed and watched with a frown as Santana pulled a hairpin from her hair and stuck it in the keyhole. It took Santana less than 10 seconds of fiddling before they heard the familiar click of the lock. The Latina threw her a smug look and pushed the door open – forcefully since it was rusty and old.

They walked in and Santana closed the door behind them. They were immediately engulfed in complete darkness. Quinn couldn't even see her outstretched hand in front of her face. She could, however, hear computers whirring in the dark though and her wariness peaked.

"Um, Santana?" she called out cautiously.

She heard the click-clack of heels and saw the small light emitting from Santana's phone as the woman walked off into the darkness. Quinn stood rooted in her place, waiting for something to happen. Her friend stopped at a switch and flipped it.

And then…the lights came on.

Both of them squinted and winced at the sudden brightness. As she got herself familiar with the brightness, she looked around her, trying to familiarize herself with her surroundings. Her jaw gradually dropped as she took in everything.

There was a large table in the middle of the room, computer monitors dotted around it. There was a desk and matching chair, and a television at one side of the wall with an armchair in front of it. Next, there was huge bulletin board adjacent to the wall, littered with photos of her and Rachel. A blueprint of Rachel's mansion was also pinned on it. There was one photo of Rachel, her face crossed out with a red permanent marker.

But, what shocked her the most was the collection of weaponry arranged neatly against the opposite wall.

AK-47, machine guns, rifles…you name it. There they were. In their glory.

Quinn slowly strode towards the rack in awe at the sight before her. These were high-tech weapons used on the field and in the secret service. Civilians should not have possession of these firearms. But then again, Dustin Goolsby wasn't just any civilian. He was an experienced veteran who received a mountain of awards and honors in the name of the US government. It shouldn't surprise her.

She was unable to control the trembling in her hands as she took in the collection. She turned to Santana, still standing at the switch with a sympathetic look on her face. Quinn gulped down her tears and the scream that was about to tear out of her throat as she stalked towards the row of computer monitors. She more or less punched the turn-on buttons of the CPUs under the table and watched as each of the monitors booted on.

The first to turn on was the one sitting right in front of her. It was the control center of all the others. It was the nucleus of this corrupted cell. Quinn took a deep breath before her hand shot out to the mouse and moved it to the security camera icon on the desktop and clicked it. It didn't take long for the processor to get it up and running and then there they were.

Video footage. Live feed of Rachel Berry and Kurt Hummel and her team on the screen. Each and every one of the security cameras she'd installed throughout the property all up on all the monitors. Her breath shuddered and she collapsed back against the chair back and ran her hands through her hair as she tried to catch her breath.

She could feel Santana standing next to her, one hand rubbing the back of her neck while the other moved the mouse, clicking one of the files. The window shot up on screen and Quinn narrowed her eyes as a recording of Dustin Goolsby began to play.

" _I have to get rid of that bitch. She's the one holding me back from Quinn. When I'm done with Berry, I will have Quinn as mine and she will realize how much better suited she is for me than that unappreciative cunt. Rachel Berry is gonna pay for what she did to Quinn. She is_ _ **going**_ _to pay."_

Quinn's mouth formed shapes of words she couldn't verbalize. She was speechless. Her vocal cords stopped functioning. Her brain was entirely blanked out. She wasn't capable of processing any thought except for the common plea for a holy deity up there. Not that she was a religious person. It was just what people usually say.

"Oh my god."

"I know it's a lot to take in, but you gotta keep it in, Quinn. You can cry just this once. You can lose control just this once. And then you gotta rein it in and you gotta catch that bastard. Because god forbids that guy touch even a strand of Rachel's hair…"

The rest of Santana's sentence was drowned out by Quinn's sudden scream as she jumped out of the chair and threw it backwards with all her strength. She screamed as she tore off the high quality photos of her and Rachel. She screamed when she kicked the row of computers and table to the floor, smashing to pieces. She screamed when she threw one of the firearms onto the ground. She screamed when she dropped to her knees. She screamed as she punched the floor without stopping, and she cried when her hands began to bleed from her punches.

That was when a pair of strong arms wrapped around her middle and pulled her to a sitting position. Santana pulled her head to her chest and laid her chin on top of Quinn's head as she shushed her soothingly and rocked her back and forth like a mother comforting a child. Her heart ached when Quinn fisted her hand in her jacket and sobbed into her chest.

"I trusted him. I trusted him. I trusted him. I trusted him. I trusted him," she choked repeatedly.

"I know, Q. I know." Santana kissed the top of her best friend's hair and she rocked.

* * *

Rachel couldn't sleep. She could not sleep. She was worried about Quinn and Santana and she couldn't sleep. So she decided to sit on the edge of the fountain in front of the mansion, her gaze locked on the driveway as she waited for their return. She didn't know how long she had been sitting there. She knew she had seen a couple of the guards walking pass with a respectful nod towards her. She knew she had seen David hesitating to walk towards her from the garage before deciding against it. She just didn't know when they would come back.

She saw someone settling next to her from the corner of her eyes but didn't turn. They hummed and she immediately knew who it was. She sat in silence, unwilling to talk. She didn't want to do anything until Quinn came back home. She knew she might be acting needy right now, but she only just got Quinn back. They were just starting to repair their relationship. She couldn't let anything get in the way. Not now. Not tomorrow. Not ever.

"You should go to sleep," Brittany finally said. "You have an early day tomorrow."

"I actually have a day off. Artie and the others have scenes to edit," she replied drily. "And I couldn't sleep," she added with a tired exhale.

Brittany shifted next to her and hummed again. "I get it. I'm worried about them too."

"What time is it?"

"Eleven-forty five."

A moment of pause. "Do you know where they went?"

Another moment of silence. "Yes."

"Where did they go?"

"I can't tell you."

Rachel finally turned to Brittany. The dancer carried a guilty look as she shrugged helplessly. "Santana asked me not to tell you. She said Quinn wouldn't want you to know either."

"Well I want to!"

"I can't tell you," Brittany repeated.

"Damn it, Brittany!" Rachel was about to launch into another one of her rants when a pair of headlights caught their attention.

Sam's car drove in their direction and then took a turn towards the garage. They could see the silhouettes of their girlfriends in the car. Their positions had changed on their return trip, with Quinn driving and Santana sitting in the passenger seat. Rachel and Brittany glanced at each other before they took a jog towards the garage to meet them.

Quinn parked the car and instantly hopped out, throwing the keys at Santana on her way to Rachel. When they reached each other halfway, Quinn pulled Rachel into a searing kiss, disregarding their possible spectators. Rachel yelped and stood motionless for a second before she responded.

 _What Quinn wants Quinn gets_. That was Rachel's mantra at this point as she wrapped her arms around the other woman's waist. It seemed as if their roles had reversed at that moment as Rachel took on the protective and sensible role and pulled back before it got too far.

"Are you okay?" Rachel whispered in query, trying to search Quinn's face for a clue. The look on Quinn's face was telling enough and she nodded to herself. "Come on, let's get you back to get changed."

"No, I have to do my rounds."

"You ca-"

"I have to!" Quinn snapped. A hurt look flashed across Rachel's face and Quinn sighed. She pressed her fingers against her temples and groaned before she reached out to take Rachel's hands. "I have to because I'm not letting what happened last time happen again. I'm not going to repeat the same mistake, Rachel."

Rachel took a moment and nodded. "Okay. But you have to let me do it with you."

Quinn looked as if she was going to protest but Rachel made a disapproving noise and she acquiesced. Santana and Brittany went back up to their room as Quinn and Rachel walked about the property hand in hand in silence. Rachel watched as Quinn made her usual checks. She listened as Quinn made grunts of approval. And they finally reached the pool house

Quinn unlocked the door, the sounds of Puck and Sam's snores assaulting their ears instantly. They couldn't help but smirk at the sight of these two strong and reliable men now tangled in their blankets, curled into fetal positions and drooling.

Rachel pulled on Quinn's hand and leading her into the bedroom. She closed the door quietly behind her and sat Quinn down on the bed. She helped Quinn undress and change into comfortable clothes. Then she stood in front of Quinn and tilted her chin and leaned down to kiss the blonde. Quinn's arms wrapped around her waist and pulled her back until they both hit the bed. Rachel straddled the blonde and just kissed her.

She knew deep inside that Quinn wouldn't want to talk about anything tonight; this was the only distraction she could offer. When air became a necessity, they pulled apart and Rachel panted into Quinn's lips as she ran her fingers through the bodyguard's hair.

"I love you."

Quinn smiled, albeit a little sadly. "I love you too."

They stared at each other for a while before Rachel pulled back, rolling away from Quinn and standing. "Come on, let's get you tucked in. You're tired and I'm exhausted."

Quinn chuckled and let herself be pulled to her feet by Rachel. She helped pull back the covers and lay down on the bed. She patted the spot next to her in invitation. Rachel smiled and followed Quinn, tucking herself in Quinn's arms. The blonde laid a kiss on top of Rachel's head and pulled the covers over both of them and settled in.

"It's all gonna be okay," Rachel muttered and nuzzled into Quinn's neck, inhaling her scent.

Quinn stared into the air, the image of everything she'd seen an hour ago still vivid in her mind. "Yes, everything's gonna be okay," she promised.


	18. off she goes

It was Friday, and there was simply  _no_  sign of Dustin Goolsby at all. Quinn was practically exploding as each day passed. Each night she would make her rounds and put Rachel to bed before sneaking out in Sam's car to stakeout the warehouse. To say she was strung out and exhausted would be an understatement.

Rachel wasn't stupid. She wasn't as unaware of her situation as they all thought she was. She noticed Quinn huddling in a corner with the usual gang –Puck now included – and their facial expressions were rarely happy. She knew that Quinn had been sneaking out every night. She had seen her driving off the property every night when she thought Rachel was asleep. She sensed the tension in everyone, especially Quinn. The spark in her eyes had diminished. Her body posture no longer exuded confidence and strength. She could see the fatigue overcoming her.

Rachel was worried. She tried to get Quinn to talk to her the day after she had got out with Santana, but Quinn refused. She would only tell Rachel that she had everything under control and not to worry about it. Honestly, how could she not? The things she had seen so far did nothing but deepen her concerns.

Now, it was Friday. Santana and Brittany were leaving today, and Quinn wouldn't have her best friend with her, which only meant she would be even more strung out and tense. They were on their way to the airport to send Santana and Brittany off. Rachel kept throwing glances at the blonde in the front passenger seat as she tried to find ways to get Quinn to let her in.

After they parked the car, Rachel deliberately took hold of Quinn's hand and raised a brow when Quinn looked at her in surprise. "Rachel," Quinn said quietly and firmly.

"It's okay, Quinn. Azimio's not here. No one's here but us, and everyone else here already knows. David won't say a thing," Rachel reassured, throwing a look at the driver to say otherwise. David raised his hands in mock surrender with a soft smile. "See?"

Quinn stared down into Rachel's tender and slightly worried eyes and smiled as she leaned down to kiss Rachel's cheek and squeeze the brunette's hand. "I love you, you know that?" she whispered as she led them through the doors, following the others who'd already gone inside.

They found them all huddled at the terminal, chatting amongst themselves. Quinn and Rachel slowed down their steps, hoping to get some alone time together as they subtly held each other's hands. You never know if someone would recognize Rachel, even when she was wearing a baseball cap. The calming effect Rachel always had on her was already taking effect. The turmoil she constantly had wreaking havoc inside her mind went to peace – however temporary – when Rachel pressed herself to her side.

They stopped near Sam and he casually stepped aside to let them both through. Santana's chatter with Marley faded as Quinn finally made her way to her side. They stared at each other with melancholy smiles. Santana's eyes carried a sliver of concern. She reached out and touched the blonde's forearm.

"So have you decided what you're gonna do now?" she asked softly. "Because we have no idea when he's gonna strike and you gotta be prepared when he does."

Quinn was quiet for awhile before she glanced over her shoulder at both their girlfriends. Then she turned back and pulled Santana away. Santana frowned at her in confusion.

"What?"

"I do have a plan." Santana's eyes widened. "I don't think you or anyone else is gonna like it, but it's all I can think of at the moment."

Santana folded her arms across her chest and tilted her chin in the air. "I'm listening."

Quinn swallowed and began explaining her plan to Santana. It was a plan she never would have seen coming, yet the idea didn't really shock her. And Quinn was right; Santana did not like it at all. She didn't think the people involved would either.

"You have got to be kidding me," Santana said when Quinn was finally finished. The look on Quinn's face said otherwise. Santana's jaw dropped, her arms swinging down to hang limply at her sides. "Quinn, that's the most ridiculous plan I've heard!"

"I told you! It's all I could think of," Quinn bit out between gritted teeth. "Besides, like you said, we don't know when Goolsby will strike again and I would prefer it if she's safe and sound when he does. So yeah, I want you to help me with this plan."

The Latina gazed at her in shock and slight agitation for a few more seconds before she released a sigh and shook her head. "She's not gonna like it. Not one bit. She'll probably be pissed at you for god knows how long. I mean, you two  _just_  made up, for Pete's sake."

"I  _know_ , okay?" Quinn asserted. "You think I want this? I  _don't_. I have no choice. I would rather she be angry with me for the rest of her entire fucking life than be unsafe." She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, biting her lips. "I'm not asking you to like it because I don't like it myself. I'm asking you to help me. Help me do the one job you asked me to do."

"Do I look like I have a choice in this?" Santana answered tiredly. "But I'm not talking to her. Nuh uh, she's a goddamn spitfire who's probably gonna act out her diva tantrum right here and I'm not gonna be the cause of it."

"Okay."

"Did you prepare everything?"

"I've asked Kurt to help me last night. And before you say anything, he doesn't like it either."

"What about the movie?"

"Artie's willing to hold back. They still have more scenes to edit anyway."

"You didn't think to tell me about this before today?"

"Well, you didn't tell me you were gonna leave today so let's call it even."

Quinn turned around to find Rachel and Brittany watching them suspiciously. Rachel in particular looked uncomfortable and afraid. She sensed it. She sensed that something was coming and it wasn't going to be good. The blonde sighed and approached the brunette. She reached out to brush both of Rachel's arms in a comforting motion, in hopes of easing the situation.

"Rachel," Quinn started, "I have something to tell you. You won't like it. You'll probably hate me for it, but I need you to do it for me. I just…I just need you to do it for me. For the sake of your safety and my peace of mind. Can you do that?"

Rachel frowned at her and didn't say anything, silently waiting for her to continue.

"I've booked a plane ticket…for you." Rachel's frown deepened and her mouth opened a little. "To Washington. With Santana and Brittany," Quinn completed in bits and pieces.

Rachel looked positively outraged at Quinn's request, shaking her head frantically as she shrugged out of Quinn's grip. She held up her hand in frustration when Quinn made a move towards her. The blonde exhaled in resignation and stood frozen as she watched Rachel shaking her head and pacing. The others were watching them. Some were shocked. Some were knowing and sympathetic.

"No," Rachel finally barked. She stopped pacing and glared at Quinn, jabbing a finger in her direction. "No," she repeated more firmly. "I am not going to Washington. I'm not leaving. Not without you. No."

"Rachel –"

"No! You  _do not_ get to make such drastic and unreasonable decisions for me and expect me to just go along with them. I am not your puppy, Quinn Fabray. I don't need you and I don't want you to think you can make decisions for me just because you think it's appropriate!" Rachel ranted.

"Told you she wouldn't like it," Santana and Kurt muttered simultaneously.

Quinn chose to ignore their jabs and face Rachel. "Rach, please listen to me."

"I said  _no_ , Quinn."

"Your suitcase is already checked in, so you have to go." Quinn knew that was a lame excuse, but she knew anything she might say would just sound desperate, even though she was now  _extremely_ desperate.

Rachel released a humorless chuckle and shook her head as she gazed above her at the high ceiling of JFK. "I can't believe this," she murmured and gulped a few times before lowering her head to look back at Quinn. She stalked towards the woman and flared her nostrils. "You, Quinn Fabray, are unbelievable."

"I know," Quinn whispered. "But that's why you love me. It's because I'm unbelievable."

Rachel couldn't help but smile slightly at that. "That is true," she muttered. Quinn thought for a second she was complying but then, "I am  _still_  not going to Washington. I'll just get new clothes or whatever. But I am not going."

"You are, Rachel," Quinn insisted.

"Oh don't you tell me what I am or am not going to do. You are not the boss of me. The answer is still no."

Quinn's anxiety reached its limit and exploded. "You don't get to say no!" Rachel looked taken aback at the blonde's frustrated and desperate tone. Quinn huffed and ran a hand through her hair as she bit her lip. She gestured in the air but words refused to come to her. Finally, in a strained voice she said, "You  _can't_  say no, Rach." She took a deep breath to compose herself. "I can't lose you," she choked. "Not after I just got you back. And god forbid something happens to you, because I will lose it and I will go  _nuts_."

"Quinn."

"No, Rachel, you need to go. I swear to god I will drag you onto that plane myself if I have to. You have the right to be angry with me. You can even slap me if you want to, but you need to get on that plane to Washington, because Santana can help me keep you safe there. And he won't be able to find you."

Rachel narrowed her eyes. "Who's not going to find me?" she asked. Quinn kept her silence. "Quinn?"

"Please," Quinn pleaded in a whisper. "Please."

The actress stared at her and took off her cap, disregarding the patrons in the airport. She didn't care now. She handed it to Kurt and then cupped Quinn's cheeks in her hands, stroking her skin with her thumbs. "Hey," she whispered. "Quinn, look at me." The blonde lifted her gaze and met Rachel's. "Nothing's going to happen to me."

"You don't know that."

"I do."

"You don't."

"Yes, I do. You know why? Because you're gonna be here to protect me. Puck and Sam will be here to protect me. I have a whole security team. Well, Azimio isn't that great, but fuck him. What I'm trying to say is, nothing's going to happen to me because I know I have you and everyone else to protect me in case something does happen."

"Yeah, and look where that got us last time. I lost my hearing, Rachel. He got into your  _bedroom_ and I lost my hearing. This guy is capable of anything. We don't know what his next step is. He has a way of getting past our security measures so I'm not sure if me being here is going to be enough. So please, Rachel, please get on the plane."

"Damn it, Quinn, do not use that tone with me," Rachel hissed.

"Please." The blonde disregarded her order.

Rachel closed her eyes and swallowed. Her hands fell from Quinn's face and she spun on her heel and strode towards Kurt, tearing his jacket lapel open and removing her passport from the pocket. She turned back to Quinn, grabbed her face and kissed her hard right then and there. Quinn moaned at the force and kissed her back.

"I hate you so much," Rachel choked against her lips before she released her and ran off towards the terminal without another look back.

Quinn stared at the entrance longingly, her breath heavy with exhaustion. She turned around to face their audience. Puck and Sam and Marley looked surprised and Brittany was staring at her forlornly. She looked to be deciding between hugging her and smacking her. Santana and Kurt could only shake their heads knowingly.

Santana grabbed the handles of her and Brittany's suitcase and approached Quinn. "So are you gonna call us or…"

"I'll call you. Every day," Quinn reassured with a nod and patted Santana's shoulder. "Take care of her for me."

The Latina rolled her eyes and nodded before reaching forward to pull her into an embrace. "You take care of yourself, you hear me? I'm not gonna take responsibility if you suddenly drop dead and Rachel go more nuts than she is right now." Quinn laughed and squeezed Santana before letting go. "Come on, Britts. Let's go."

Brittany pulled Quinn into a bear hug before walking away with Santana. The remaining group watched them walk into the terminal. When they were no longer in sight, Quinn spun around and stalked past them to the parking lot where Dave was waiting. She held up a hand to stop him from speaking to her, giving him only a curt head shake as she climbed into the passenger seat. Marley followed a few seconds after with Kurt.

"Just drive," Quinn said softly and stared at her jeans clad thighs.

He frowned and shifted his gaze into the mirror where he met Kurt's eyes. The other man could only shrug and gestured for him to do as Quinn requested. Dave nodded in acquiescence and revved up the car. Nobody said a word the whole journey home. Quinn didn't even thank him – she always did – when they reached the mansion. She only nodded and then hurriedly got out of the car and ran out of the garage to the yard around the mansion.

They watched as she stopped at a marble table and chair set positioned in the middle of the yard. She sat down on one of the chairs and propped her elbows on her knees, burying her face in her hands.

"Do I want to know?" Dave asked after a moment of silence.

Marley sighed and then shook her head to herself. "Quinn wants us all to meet in the kitchen in twenty minutes," she said shortly before walking away.

Kurt popped his lips and shrugged. "She sent Rachel away with Santana and Brittany, thinking she'd be safer in Washington than here."

"That's ridiculous," Dave commented.

Kurt shot him a look. "I know that," he said pointedly. "Just be at the kitchen in twenty." He watched Quinn longer before walking away himself.

Puck and Sam came in the gates a short while later and pulled the car over next to Dave's and got out, following his gaze. "God, just when you think they're finally okay," Sam drifted off.

The mohawked man next to him shook his head. "Never a dull moment with these two," he answered and then strode past Dave to head to the pool house. Sam hummed in agreement and then followed him. He smiled at Dave politely before he went away.

Somehow, Dave wished that a dull moment would come to Quinn and Rachel. They've been not-dull long enough.

* * *

"I have found out who is behind all of this."

A ruckus rose among the crowd gathered in the kitchen. It was a mess. Everyone began shouting questions and demands all at once at Quinn, with the exception of Puck, Sam and Marley. She closed her eyes in frustration; she so did not need this right now.

"Quiet down!" she demanded loudly. The room stuttered into abrupt silence. She released a breath and shoved her thumbs in her belt loops. "It's Dustin Goolsby." A rumble of exclamations went through the group, threatening to get loud again and she held up her palms in attempt to shut them up. "I've been suspicious of him for a few months now. And then his current…disappearance did nothing but increase my suspicions of him. Santana helped me to run a deeper investigation on him while I was out of duty for those two weeks."

"Yeah, you didn't do shit," Azimio boldly said.

"Hey, back up, boy!" Puck retorted loudly, glaring at the black man. "She's done more in these few months than you've ever done in a year. So shut up and sit down and let her talk!"

Azimio relented and cowered back in his seat. Quinn nodded in Puck's direction in appreciation and then faced the entire room again. "We will continue to go to the set, even if Ra-Miss Berry isn't around anymore. I will reassign another roster, so half of you will stay here to keep an eye on the house. If there's  _anything_  unusual at all, call me. And do everything you can to find out what it is. Do you understand?"

Mike raised his hand. "Where is Miss Berry?"

"Washington."

"Why is she in Washington?" another asked.

"Because she's safer there."

"Says who?"

"Hey! I said back up!" Puck interjected, already on his feet and ready to jump Azimio in a moment's notice.

"Puck! Azimio!" Quinn barked. They turned their gazes towards her. She closed her eyes, shook her head and sighed. "We are supposed to be a team," she bitted out. "How do we expect to catch Goolsby if we can't even work together ourselves?" she finally yelled. She directed her next words to Azimio. "Look, I know you don't like me." He snorted. "Hey, I don't like you either! But we gotta work together if we wanna catch him as soon as possible and then I can get the hell out of that pool house and never have to see you again!"

She wasn't exaggerating. After what she did, she wasn't even sure if Rachel would want her around when they finally found Dustin Goolsby.

"Now, can you do that for me? Because if you can't, then you need to leave." To make her point, she pointed a finger at the backdoor. Azimio looked torn for a second before he settled back down in his chair. "Thank you," she said pointedly. "As I was saying, I need your full cooperation. Over the next few weeks – or even months – we will have to work together  _as a team_ to get this bastard. Then you probably won't have to see me anymore."

Everybody nodded and cited their agreements. Some even smiled at her. Sam was giving her a thumb up while Puck was still glaring at Azimio in warning.

"We will be kicking some Goolsby ass," Marley then exclaimed which erupted another round of agreement from the rest of the team.

"All for one!" Sam yelled.

"One for all!" they replied, including Quinn.

* * *

Rachel hadn't said a word the entire journey to Washington. All she did was stare out the window at the endless white fluffy clouds and eat and drink and sleep. Other than that, she didn't do anything. She did cry a little when the plane took off. Brittany tried to hug her but the brunette only shook her head.

When they touched down, Rachel was the first to hurry out of the interior of the plane and to the baggage claim. She already had the couple's suitcases with her when they finally reached her. Then she pushed the trolley towards them and walked away with her own suitcase.

For once in her life, Santana Lopez had no idea what she should do with Rachel Berry.

So they didn't. Brittany gently wrapped her arms around the tiny brunette's shoulder and led her towards the limousine they'd book to bring them back to their place. They loaded the luggage in the trunk and climbed in the backseat.

"Rachel," Santana called out.

She was ignored. Santana sighed and rubbed her temple with her fingers, hard. Damn it, Quinn Fabray. What the hell was she thinking? She dug out her phone from her pocket to see if there was any call.

None.

Really? She put her on a plane and jetted her off to DC and didn't even bother to call? She could at least call and apologize to Santana for leaving her with a living breathing burden that was probably going to mess up their routine for the next god-knows-how-long.

When they arrived at their apartment building, Santana stayed behind to pay the driver while her girlfriend and best friend's sort-of-girlfriend went up. Rachel was nowhere to be seen by the time she finally got up to her apartment. She heard noises from their bedroom and went in to find Brittany already unpacking.

"Where's Rachel?" she asked.

Brittany didn't jump or startle. She was used to Santana sneaking up on her unannounced. So she calmly brought their clothes into the closet while saying, "In Quinn's bedroom. I figured she'd want some alone time." She came out with a tight smile and leaned in to kiss Santana.

Santana kissed her back and then proceeded to help Brittany unpack. "Did she say anything?"

"Just a thank you. And then she closed the door and locked it." Brittany stood upright and tied her hair into a ponytail while releasing a whoosh of breath. "She is  _so_  mad at Quinn."

"Well, if I were her, I'd be mad at Quinn too," Santana quipped, discarding their dirty clothes in the launder basket.

"I don't know. I guess I can see where she's coming from." Santana stuck her head out the bathroom doorway and stared at her with a questioning look. Brittany raised her eyebrows at her girlfriend. "Believe me, if I was Quinn and you were threatened in any kind of way, I'd probably pack you in a plane and send you to Malaysia."

Santana's brows rose. "Malaysia? Of all places?"

"They are not terrorists, San. Don't be racing."

The Latina couldn't help but smile adoringly at Brittany's wrong use of word. "It's 'racist', honey." Brittany nodded as if it wasn't a big deal. "And I was not being racist. It's just so hot there."

"Perfect for you," the dancer quipped with a mischievous grin. "You're hot."

Santana's smile widened and she stepped out of the bathroom, approaching Brittany. "I don't think anyone's capable of being pissed at you, Britts," she whispered, encircling her arms around the dancer's waist.

Brittany grinned and pecked her nose. "What I meant was that Quinn has a point. That guy probably won't know that Rachel's here with us and that would mean she's safer here."

Santana hummed and nuzzled her girlfriend's neck. "I guess." And she pushed them onto the bed so she could do naughtier things than kissing her girlfriend's neck.

* * *

That night, Rachel had takeout with the girls and watched an episode of Grey's Anatomy before bidding goodnight and heading to her bedroom. Quinn called at ten in the evening and Santana growled in agitation.

"You are  _so dead_ ," she seethed menacingly.

"You can kill me when this is all over."

"She's barely said a word. Rachel Berry didn't say any more than ten words after you put her on that plane and sent her off. She just kept sulking and I swear if I have to spend another second staring at her stupid sulky face I will tear  _your_  face off."

She heard Quinn sigh on the other end of the line. "Santana, like I said, you can do all that when this is all over."

"How long do you expect me to be a babysitter? I have a job, Quinn. So does Brittany. How do you expect us to take care of her?"

"Just make sure there's food for her. And that her phone's with her. And make sure your girlfriend's does not give her any non-vegan products. Give her a few tips on where to go to enjoy herself. Tell her to call you between intervals."

Santana released a humorless chuckle. "Yeah, quote unquote enjoy herself. As if, Quinn Fabray."

"Don't pull that with me. I have enough on my plate already."

"You're the one to talk!" Santana finally yelled, but not loud enough for Rachel to hear. "I am stuck here with McMidget. I have no idea whatsoever on how to handle her possible tantrums and demands. I am not you, Q. I don't know shit about her."

"You know enough. And you can call me if you don't."

"You owe me so much."

"I know."

"I swear I'm gonna rip your face off."

"I know."

A long moment of quiet before Santana finally relented and stood up. "Do you want to talk to her?"

"I'm not sure she would want to."

"It's worth a try."

She could sense hesitation in her friend on the other end of the line. However, Quinn relented in the end. "Okay," she breathed.

Santana rounded the sofa and passed by the small soundproof studio where Brittany was practicing her dance. She reached the end of the hallway, where Rachel's room was located. She reached out, hesitated and rapped on it with her knuckles thrice. She waited a few moments longer before knocking again, harder this time.

"I don't think she's up," Quinn said.

Santana ducked her head and a line of light coming from the slit beneath the door. "Oh she is." She knocked again. "Rachel, open the door!"

"Santana."

"I'm trying for you," she retorted. "Rachel, open the door or so help me…" She didn't get to finish her sentence when the door abruptly swung open to reveal Rachel's scowl.

"I was in the bathroom, okay?" Rachel admonished.

Santana thrust her phone at the smaller brunette. "Someone wants to talk to you."

Rachel stared at the phone, biting her lip while clenching and unclenching her fists. Then she shook her head in defeat and took a step back. "I don't wanna talk to her."

"Berry –"

"Not tonight, alright? I can't tonight." The pleading look Rachel gave her was enough for her to nod and let Rachel shut the door in her face.

If they were any other circumstances, she would have banged and demanded Rachel come out for a smackdown. But this was not other circumstances. She put the phone back to her ear. "She won't talk to you."

She could hear Quinn's silent sobs and her heart ached. "Well, we tried," Quinn strained.

* * *

"Is it just me or is this place a little too quiet?"

"Sebastian, you said you wanted to visit. I let you visit. Stop complaining," Quinn grumbled, taking their dishes to the sink to wash them.

He hummed and then looked around him. They were at the pool house so there really wasn't much to look at. Then he made a questioning noise and said "Hold on, where is that woman?"

She tensed a little but she continued scrubbing the dirty plates. "What woman?"

"Oh come on! I'm not oblivious or blind," Sebastian stated with an incredulous voice. "Where is she, Quinn?"

She picked up a dry towel from next to the sink and started drying the cutlery. "I don't know who you're talking about."

He hummed again. "Let's see…It's a weekday. It's one in the afternoon. You're in the house instead of the film set. There's no little midget prancing around asking what my intention is with you. Something's not right with this picture."

"The picture looks perfectly fine to me."

The picture was  _so_  not fine. She placed the dishes back where they belonged and leaned against the edge of the sink, not bothering to turn back to look at him. The picture was not fine. Everything wasn't fine because she was supposed to be happy and kissing a small brunette and going on dates with her. Instead, she was here and Rachel was…not here.

A moment of pause passed between them. She was staring at the faucet and she knew he was staring at her. "Quinn," he finally said, not so playful now. "What's going on?"

She clinched her jaw and threw the rag in the sink. She spun on her heels and stalked out of the kitchen and into her bedroom. She made her way into her closet and pulled her shirt over her head, randomly picking another from her collection of shirts and pulling it over her head. She knew very well he was just standing at the door, watching her. She wasn't embarrassed. He'd seen her in a worse state.

She side-stepped him and walked out of her bedroom again. She pulled her hair into a neat ponytail. "Nothing's going on," she finally answered.  _Lie_. She opened the front door and began walking up the path to the mansion, followed by Sebastian. Before she could even reach the door, he pulled on her arm and turned her around. "Sebastian, come on. I invited you here because you're my friend and I wanted to better our friendship. Can we just leave this behind us?"

"No." She rolled her eyes and stood akimbo, looking down at her feet. "No, Quinn. We can't leave this behind us. I don't even know what  _this_  is. And I'm worried about you." He motioned towards her damaged ear and made a face. "I'm worried about you," he repeated. "I mean, you sounded fine on the phone last week and then now you're…you're like worse than when I first met you."

"I sent Rachel to Washington," she whispered, as if she was suffering from a disease. She pulled slightly on her ponytail and laughed to herself humorlessly. "And I found out that one of my best confidantes – you can even call him a friend –was behind all of it. Also, he's in love with me. If you can even call it that." He stood frozen, his grip on her arm still tight. She pulled her lower lip in and then released it with a pop. "I sent Rachel to Washington," she repeated.

"Why did you send Rachel to Washington" he inquired, ducking his head to look at her face and was slightly taken aback to see moisture in her eyes.

She sniffled and lifted her head so he wouldn't have to strain. "She's safer there. If we're lucky, Goolsby probably won't know I sent her to Washington. I'm crossing my fingers for that."

"And she isn't safe here?"

"He got into her bedroom, Sebastian. I made a mistake and he got into her bedroom. God knows what he'll do next. I can't risk even a remote chance for him to get her. I need her to be safe and sound. I just got her back and I can't lose her now."

He frowned. "What do you mean you just got her back?"

Her grip on her hips tightened. She didn't mean to tell him this way. Guess there was no other choice now. "We were…on the mend," she said hesitantly, staring at him with searching eyes. She couldn't help but feel guilty when she saw a flash of pain across his eyes.

"So you're like back together now?"

Unwillingly, her mind conjured the image of Rachel laughing and she couldn't help but laugh slightly while she shrugged. "I'm not even sure now. She's angry at me. And she has a right to be. I mean, I sent her off to Washington without her even knowing it."

His hand gradually loosened from her arm and flopped to his side as he looked at her with muddled features. "Wow."

"I'm sorry, Sebastian," she drifted off, her gaze traveling back down to her feet.

"Why?"

She looked up at him in surprise. She opened her mouth to explain and then closed them again, having no idea what to say without being too insensitive. Then she figured being straightforward may be better than being secretive.

"I know you uh…you like me. I mean, you made it quite obvious. And I appreciate it. Really, I do. I'm flattered but…I don't feel the same way. So, I'm sorry."

"Hey, no!" he exclaimed almost instantly and reached out to grab her elbow again. "I'm happy for you. Sure, I have feelings for you but overall, I'm happy for you. I'm glad you guys made up. And I guess that explains why you were in such a chipper mood when we were on the phone that day."

She chuckled and nodded, patting his chest awkwardly. He laughed and extended his arms out.

"Come on, congratulations hug?" he offered.

She laughed and leaned forward, wrapping her arms around his waist and let him squeeze her tight. She let him linger. It was all she could give him. They remained in that position for a few minutes before he laid a kiss on the top of her head and released her from his arms. He brushed a strand of her hair behind her ear and leaned down to kiss her forehead again.

He gave a slightly melancholic smile. "I am happy for you."

"I'm sorry."

* * *

A black sedan rolled into the graveled space between the two warehouses. Dustin Goolsby stepped out with his usual smirk and slipped his shades on. He adjusted the lapels of his jacket and made his way to the door of one of the warehouses. His smirk widened when he saw signs of abuse on the lock.

"They found it," he drawled and clicked his tongue. He gingerly pushed the door open and released a laugh when he saw the chaotic situation in it. "Great job, Fabray," he exclaimed into thin air. "Great job."

Now, let his plans to foil Rachel Berry commence.


	19. grovel

Rachel held her vibrating phone in her hand as she stared at Finn's name flashing across the screen. She lifted her gaze from her phone and stared around her, taking in the empty living room. A sad smirk took over her features as she thought about how the empty room seemed to resemble the emptiness she felt in herself right now.

It had been a week since she had arrived in Washington and she had never felt lonelier. Even when Santana and Brittany were around trying to keep her company, she felt like they just weren't enough. Nobody could be enough. She knew in her heart that only one person could fill the empty spot and she wasn't even sure if she even wanted to talk to her.

Rachel winced at the clenching in her heart and she swallowed down the lump in her throat. She released a shaky breath and slid her finger across the screen, accepting the call. She cleared her throat and placed her phone against her ear.

"Rachel?" Finn asked.

She cleared her throat once more, trying to rid herself of any hoarseness. "Um, hey." Her throat was still hoarse. She gave up trying to get rid of it. "What's up?"

"What took you so long?" he inquired.

She brushed a strand of hair behind her ear and leaned back against the back of the couch. "I uh…I was thinking about…stuff," she hesitated. "Why did you call?"

"Oh I was just wondering if you want to like, hang out. If you're free, that is."

She closed her eyes and rested her head back. Her free hand played with the hem of her shorts. "I have a lot of free time," she said bitterly. "But I can't…hang out."

There was a moment of pause before Finn asked, "Are you okay, Rach?"

She exhaled harshly and opened her eyes, unsurprised to find her vision blurry with moisture. She blinked to clear away the unshed tears and kept her eyes on the ceiling fan. She wasn't sure if she should lie or be honest with Finn. She wanted to pour her heart out to someone, but she wasn't certain if Finn was the right person. She wanted to wail. She wanted to scream. She couldn't do those things with Kurt because she knew Kurt would cause a scene with Quinn, and she didn't want that.

Apparently, she took too long to ponder her decision because, "Rach?"

She snapped out of her thoughts. "Yeah?"

"Are you okay?" he repeated. "'Cause you don't sound okay."

She chuckled soundlessly and frowned as she shook her head. "No, I'm not." She could sense Finn's hesitation over the phone. "I'm not in New York," she informed him.

"What?"

She laughed, oddly enough. That same question had been roaming in her mind for the past week, along with a ton of other questions she had no answer to. "I'm in Washington."

"Why?"

She turned to look out the window at the boring old buildings; so unlike the bright, cheerful skyscrapers in New York. God she missed New York. She missed Quinn. The thought of that woman sent her emotions spinning in opposite directions. She was pissed, and yet she was happy at the thought of her. She wasn't sure if she could continue like this without going insane.

"Quinn," she started. "She sent me here."

Finn's confusion was obvious as he fumbled with his words and she could hear the sound of something crashing in the background. She hoped he didn't break anything important. He was cursing under his breath and she heard more fumbling before he clearly said, "Why did she do that?"

"Because, somehow, in her awfully confusing brain, she thought that I would be safer here than in New York. She packed up my bags and jetted me off to Washington without even so much of a warning. So here I am, for god-knows-how-long."

"That's stupid. And that's coming from me."

Rachel wanted to laugh at that. "Well, it's her." She shrugged even though he couldn't see it. "It's Quinn and more often than not, her protective nature is too much."

"Rach, this is more than 'too much'."

"Oh, I know." She breathed for a few moments before whispering, "I know."

"Have you talked to her?"

"Finn."

"What? You should talk to her. Yell at her. Demand that she bring you back to New York or she come to you in Washington. She can't leave you alone! Where are you even staying?"

"Santana and Brittany's. I mean, they tried to keep me company but they have their own lives and this just isn't my scenery. The people in suits. The phones. The constant money talk. Just…Washington. It's not me."

"Well of course it's not you!" Finn nearly shouted. "I'm gonna talk to Quinn. She's being irrationally stupid."

"No."

"But –"

"Finn, no," she admonished. "Don't. She's busy right now. She's trying to do her job, and she thinks this is the only way to do it. Let her do her job and get rid of this issue as quick as possible."

"I don't understand. Why are you defending her when you're supposed to be pissed at her?" he questioned.

She sighed and threw her hand in the air. "I'm not pissed at her," she stated and frowned and thought back on her words. "I'm just…I don't even know what I am now!" she cried out. Tears welled up in her eyes and she didn't even bother to hold them back. Her lips trembled and she swallowed. "I miss her so much, Finn," she sobbed. "I want her to come here and brighten this place for me. I want to wake up and kiss her good morning. I miss her and I love her and I just…I want her."

They didn't say anything for awhile as Rachel sobbed into her hands. Finn knew better than to stop her from crying, knowing she would just get more upset and defensive.

"I miss her so much," she cried.

"I know," he answered, sympathetically. There was a pause before he offered, "Do you want me to go there and keep you company?"

"You can't do that."

"Sure, I can. I'm Finn Hudson," he said pompously.

She laughed through her tears. "Surely your girlfriend won't be okay with that?"

"I'll just bring her there and you can get to know each other. She's a nice person, Rachel, believe it or not."

She ran her hands through her hair and wiped her eyes with the back of her hands. She sniffled and coughed. "I don't want to impose. Don't you have things to do?"

"Woman, I have nothing on my schedule until next month. So I can stay there for at least a week. We can explore Washington or go on a road trip or something like that. It'll be  _fun_!" he emphasized with enthusiasm. "Whaddaya think?"

"I mean, if you're sure…" she drifted off.

"Yeah, I'll just talk to Mandy about it. I'm sure she'll say yes," he replied.

She raised her brows. "Oh, Mandy," she commented.

He cleared her throat. "Shut up." She released a short laugh. "So it's settled then. I'll talk to Mandy and I'll call you back tonight."

"Okay."

"Good."

She smiled slightly in appreciation. "Thanks, Finn. For listening to me and being willing to spend time with me."

"Nah, it's all good. We can give Quinn a good spanking when it's all over."

"Oh, wanky!" She rolled her eyes. She really needed to get out of here. "Ignore that, I don't know what got into me. I've been spending too much time with Santana, it's kind of unhealthy."

"Don't I know it? Anyways, I'll call you back. Take care, Rach."

"Bye," she bade and hung up.

She stared at the device in her hands and frowned at it. The loneliness was back. She slumped down, collapsing on the couch. She missed Quinn.

* * *

"What the hell, Quinn?"

She jumped, spinning around to see Finn storming towards her from the foyer. She stood frozen, her mouth agape. She had no idea what she was supposed to say to that exclamation. What even was he doing here?

He looked furious and disappointed and she had no idea why. He stopped short, looming over her with a steady glower in her direction. She stared at back, wide-eyed. Her eyes narrow slightly as she tilted her head a little. Her mouth opened and closed a few times before she decided to close it completely. Her words had escaped her.

He clenched his jaw and glared at her. "Sending Rachel to Washington? Is that the best you could do?" he almost shouted at her face. "I mean, come on, Fabray!" He threw his arms out in rage.

Realization dawned on her, and her confused expression cleared, replaced with distress. She looked down at her feet before shrugging. "You know, if you have a better idea, I would be more than happy to hear it. I'm all ears," she said, gesturing to her ears for emphasis.

"Sending her to Washington isn't one."

Quinn rolled her eyes and flipped him a finger before she stormed past him and out the front door. His heavy footsteps sounded behind her as he followed hot on her heels. She ignored him as he kept on shouting her name, attracting the attention from her colleagues and Karofsky who was cleaning the car in the garage.

"Lucy Quinn Fabray!"

She stopped abruptly and he stumbled behind her, stopping only a breadth away. Her shoulders tensed up and her fists clenched before she spun on her heels and walked right into him, grabbing his shirt collar and pulling him down so she could look at him without lifting her head.

"Do not. Ever. Call me that again," she spat. "Ever."

"Okay," he surrendered, putting his hands up. She released him and gave him a good push before stepping back, panting. He stood there, his hands on his sides as he waited for her to calm down. "She's devastated," he finally said. She scoffed. "Quinn, Rachel is devastated."

"You talk like I don't have feelings as well," Quinn replied stonily.

"Dude, you packed her in a plane –"

"I had no other choice!" she yelled, her voice cracking. She slapped herself on the chest to emphasize her point. "All I was thinking about was her safety, and it was all I could think of with short notice. Dustin Goolsby's next move is going to be sooner rather than later and I couldn't risk it."

A shocked look swept across his face and she stared at him for a moment before she realized her slip up. Her eyes widened slightly and she cursed herself before reaching forward to grab him roughly on the forearm, hastily dragging him around the house to the pool house. She made sure to lock the door before facing him again.

"Not a word of this gets out," she warned in a whisper.

"Quinn –"

"Not. A. Word." He blinked at her and she raised her eyebrows, widening her eyes so he could get that she was serious. "Finn, I swear to god if you tell Rachel, or anyone for that matter, I will personally hunt you down and lock you in a basement until this is all over. Understand?"

He nodded dumbly and she deflated, collapsing on the armchair, her head resting against the back of it. He stood next to her, looking bewildered before saying, "Dustin?" His tone was disbelieving, full of shock and disappointment.

She totally understood. "Yeah." She closed her eyes and sighed as she remembered the good memories she once had with the man. "I'm not too thrilled with the idea either." His frown stayed and he looked like he was trying to figure out everything he had missed in the past. She patted him on the knee and shook her head. "We all missed it."

"But…Dustin." He sounded like a lost child now and he fumbled, finally settling down on the couch opposite her. "He's…he was such a good guy."

She nodded. "I know."

"Oh my god, he's been right under our noses." He buried his head into his hands. She watched him as he processed. When he lifted his head she was surprised to find them red rimmed with tears. "So what's your plan now?" He gulped.

"Well, he's been AWOL for a long time now," she stated with a shrug. "I've been trying to track him down but he covered his tracks well. Too well. But I'm not surprised. He  _was_  a veteran who received tons of awards and medals after all." The shocked look once again took over Finn's face. "Are you serious?"

"A veteran?" he mock-whispered.

She leaned forward and propped her elbows on her knees. She nodded and stared into the air. "He's like…five years older than me. He signed up for the army when he was," she squinted as she tried to recall, "seventeen. He was my infantry's First Sergeant back in Afghanistan. We hit it off right away. Not that way," she added quickly when she saw the look on Finn's face. "He was my best friend when the others weren't around. I told him almost everything about me. I told him about Rachel. He taught me a lot of tricks. He would give me breaks. It was obvious he favored me and a lot of my infantry mates weren't happy about it but he warned them to lay off me so I guess that's good."

"What happened?"

She smacked her lips and looked at him, doubting if she should tell him. She shrugged. "Nothing is certain when you're in the army, Finn," she said somberly. "You don't know if you're gonna die today. You don't know if there's gonna be some terrorist trying to attack your camp. You don't know if you get to go back home. We certainly did not know that we would be dispatched in different directions once our time in Afghanistan was up. So we wished each other luck and went our separate ways."

"How did he become this way?"

"He's in love with me." Finn's eyes widened. She chuckled humorlessly. "I think something happened to him when he was out there. Probably in Iraq. And…I guess he became this sadistic sicko who thinks I'll suddenly de-gay and run into his arms if Rachel's gone."

Finn frowned and licked his lips. "It's a sick way to show his love."

She grinned. "Every soldier – ex or not – is sick, Finn. Nobody's perfect. Especially not someone who's seen what war is like. You have no idea how sick I can be, Hudson. I could easily grab a knife, stab you, hide your body and wouldn't be distressed about it."

"But you're not going to," he replied easily. Her brow rose. "I don't know you that well but I know you're not some heartless murderer." She smiled at him. "So you're gonna just sit here and wait for him to make an appearance?"

"What else can I do?"

"Well you have a good team, especially Puck and Sam. I don't know. You can probably go to Washington and actually talk to Rachel." She sighed and was ready to scold him when he held up his hand. "She misses you, Quinn." He dug his phone from his pocket. "I have this habit of recording phone calls so I recorded this. I called her this morning."

Beeps sounded in the room as he worked on his phone to get the recording. He bit his lip when he found it and handed his phone to Quinn. She reluctantly took her and he clumsily gestured for her to listen to it. She sighed again and pressed play before pressing the phone to her ear.

Her heart skipped a beat when Rachel's voice reached her ear. Granted, she wasn't really talking to Quinn but she missed listening to Rachel's voice and this was good enough. Rachel's exhaustion and sadness was palpable and obvious in her voice. Her eyes welled up at her words. She reached up to cover her mouth with her palm as she took deep breaths.

" _I miss her so much, Finn. I want her to come here and brighten this place for me. I want to wake up and kiss her good morning. I miss her and I love her and I just…I want her._ "

The tears spilled over as Rachel cried in the recording. Quinn's heart clenched tighter and tighter with each whimper; each hiccup; each sob. Quinn cleared her throat and stopped the recording before it could finish and handed it back to Finn. He lamely took it and pocketed it. He watched as Quinn cried silently, looking out the glass door leading to the pool.

"I booked tickets to Washington tomorrow. I talked to Mandy and she agreed to come with me. But I'm sure she won't mind if we don't go. You can take the tickets – free of charge – and go to Washington and talk to Rachel. Apologize. Plead. Whatever." He stretched his arm out and pointed at the door. "You two have been through enough. Don't you think it's time for you to stick together?" Finn said softly.

"It's not safe," Quinn gritted between clenched teeth.

He nodded in understanding. "Well, at least see her. Let her see you. You heard what she said. Let her do those things and then you can come back and you can go back to your job. I'm sure Puck and Sam can take care of things while you're not around." She kept her silence as he scrutinized her. "But it's not just that, is it?" he revealed.

Quinn closed her eyes and covered them with her palm. She breathed deeply for a few seconds before smiling to herself. "How is it that sometimes you can be so smart and yet stupid at other times?"

"I think I should be offended," he teased. She laughed a little, removed her palm from her face and turned to look at him. His smile wiped away and he stared at her somberly. "What are you afraid of?"

Her hands gestured into the air as she spoke. "Contrary to popular belief, I'm not that brave of a woman." She looked at him with a sad smile. "What if…what if she decides that she doesn't want me anymore and leaves me again? I mean, I've basically done this to her once already. And she's done it to me, too. Who's to say it won't happen again?" Finn could feel his heart break a little at the fear in Quinn's eyes. "I just can't bear it anymore."

A part of her wondered why she was telling all of this to Finn. Another part was just glad that her doubts were finally off her shoulders.

"You trust her, don't you? I mean, you wouldn't be whatever it is that you are right now if you didn't," Finn commented. She nodded. "So take that trust and put it in her one more time." He moved forward on his knees in front of her. "I don't know anything about love, to be honest," he said with a shameful laugh. "I'm not in love, but I think I'm on my way there." She quirked an eyebrow as a little blush crept up his neck. "However, I do know what it feels like to feel like the world's colorless or something when you're not with your partner."

"Dude, that's love," Quinn commented dryly.

"Shut up." She gave him an amused look and mimed zipping her mouth shut and throwing the key away. "What I'm trying to tell you is, I know you feel like that and Rachel does too. So here I am, being the kind person I am, offering you the plane tickets and the hotel room I've reserved so you can go to DC and see her." He smirked at his own lighthearted joke.

Quinn gazed at him for a long while as she contemplated his offer before leaning forward to wrap her arms around his neck and bury her face into his shirt. "You're a nice man, Finn," she said, her voice muffled from the fabric. "You're a good friend too."

He smiled and hugged her back, inadvertently pulling her onto his lap as he sat his ass on the carpeted floor. He shrugged as he patted her back. "I just felt like doing charity."

She laughed into his shoulder, leaving some slobber on his shirt. She drew back, her arms still around his neck, and grinned at him. "You think you're funny, don't you?"

"Hey, I try." He laughed a little when she rolled her eyes. "And if I get to have a pretty lady like you sit on my lap by doing that, it's worth it." His laugh turned boisterous when she smacked him on the shoulder and tried to wriggle out of his embrace, but he wouldn't let her. He was still bigger than her, after all. "Oh no, that's too short. At least give me ten minutes." He pulled her back and hugged her tighter. She relented and placed her head on his shoulder.

"Thank you," she whispered.

He patted her back once more and gave her a smile. "You're welcome."

They stayed there longer until Finn said, "This feels too good. I'm afraid I can't let you go to Washington now. I'm officially hiring you as a personal cuddler."

"That's not even a word."

"Great. A Hudson Dictionary is on its way to production."

A loud smack sounded across the room.

* * *

Dustin listened to Finn laughing and Quinn reprimanding him. He smiled as he removed the headphones. He'd gotten enough information. He stood up from the desk and took two strides to bathroom.

The hidey-hole wasn't much, but it was enough. He wasn't going to need it much longer anyway. His job was reaching its end. He had to make sure he did it perfectly, leaving no traces. He grinned down at the toilet bowl slyly as he thought about how he was going to have Quinn in his arms in no time.

* * *

"Santana, I thought you weren't working today."

The Latina turned back to Rachel from the front door and slung her purse higher up her shoulder. "I need to get some things done at the office and then I'm gonna pick Brittany up. You wanna come along?" she offered. Santana knew that Rachel would refuse the offer. The woman had been holed up in the apartment for a week, and, despite how unhealthy it was, Santana knew she couldn't change her mind.

Rachel shook her head and mustered up her best smile before directing it to her friend. "Nah, I think I'll just…stay here and watch some TV."

Santana kept her eyes on Rachel for a moment longer. The actress had been going on marathons with various TV shows the whole week. She swore she'd never seen anyone finish a season so quickly. Come on, five seasons in three days? What the fuck was she made of? She exhaled harshly and nodded lamely at the actress.

"Where are you now, anyway?"

Rachel turned back to the TV and said, "Mark's in the hospital. Thank god he's alive."

"He dies."

"Santana!"

Santana smirked and shrugged. She began pulling the door close behind her. "Just trying to prepare you for the tears that are bound to come!" Santana yelled before completely shutting it close. The smirk swept off her face as soon as the latch clicked.

She stared at the oak wood and sighed. Seriously, she didn't know how long Rachel was going to be able to keep this up before it finally spilled and she exploded. And she really didn't wanna be there to be one of the victims of the explosion. She tried getting the woman out. She did. They took for a tour of Washington last Monday but Santana and Brittany could obviously see that Rachel wasn't interested. The bland buildings and lack of colorful billboards were just…dull to Rachel.

Her element was in New York. Her person was in New York. Her soul and heart were in New York. In spite of Quinn's theory that Rachel would be interested in the money and politics talk in Washington, she just wasn't. She wanted Broadway. She wanted music. She wanted neon lights. She wanted Quinn. And all of those things weren't here in Washington.

Santana turned away from the door at last and pressed the elevator button. She made sure she waved goodbye to Walter the security guard as she walked out of the building.

She was halfway done with the files in her office when her desk phone rang, startling her. She put a palm to her chest and looked around her habitually. With her job, she never knew if there was going to be danger lurking around the corner. She picked up her phone without bothering to look at the caller ID.

"Santana Lopez," she greeted – more like grunted.

"Give Walter the okay for me to go to your apartment."

Santana frowned and sifted through her memories to find the owner of the voice. The call was so sudden and demanding in nature that it threw her for a loop before it finally dawned on her. "Quinn?" she said incredulously.

"Yes. Quinn. Now give Walter the okay for me to go to your apartment. What happened to John anyway? He was nice and friendly." Quinn's voice grew louder at the last three words, obviously intending for the security guard to hear them.

"Hold on, hold on," Santana muttered and tried to clear her mind to completely understand the situation. It took her just a few seconds to get it. "Are you at my apartment building?" Her voice reached a higher pitch.

She could basically hear Quinn's eyes rolling. "Yes, Santana. I am at your apartment building. Be quick!"

"Why?"

"Because I want you to tell Walter here to let me up," Quinn said, feigning patience.

"No, I meant why are you at my apartment building?"

There was a pause. "Because I'm here to grovel at Rachel's feet and hoping to from heaven to hell that she would find it in her to forgive me one more time."

"What about New York? Don't you have to stand guard? Are you here alone or what?"

She was going to ask more questions when Quinn cut her off with a snap. "Santana!" The Latina stopped. She knew not to say anymore when Quinn used that tone. "We'll talk later. I'm heading back on Tuesday so we have two days to talk. But now, please stop wasting time and  _let me up_."

"Pass the phone to Walter."

A moment passed before Walter's voice came through. "Miss Lopez?"

"Let her up. She's a friend."

"Are you sure? Because she has what seems to be a real gun under her jacket – yeah you're not hiding it well – and that means danger."

"Walter, she's a friend," Santana reiterated patiently. "She's sort of a veteran and she has a license for that gun so no worries, Walter. She won't kill anybody unless necessary."

"Okay then, Miss Lopez. Whatever you say."

"Thank you," Quinn said. Santana could hear the faint ding of the elevator in the background. "I know you have a lot of questions, but I need to do this quick."

"Yeah, we'll talk later. Go grovel," she taunted with a smirk.

"Bye."

Dial tone. Santana's smirk turned into a smile as she put down the phone and propped her chin on her fist. She was pretty damn sure this was going to turn out well for them.

* * *

Finn left shortly after dinner, allowing Quinn just enough time to pack a light bag before gathering her team in the kitchen. She passed out a schedule for the next three days. Azimio, being Azimio, accused her of slacking off again and leaving them to do the dirty work. Before Puck could tackle him to the floor, Quinn told them that she was going to Washington to check on her client's well-being.

She told them what to do specifically, and left detailed instructions for each different department of the team. Before she dismissed them, she told them to call her if they saw Dustin Goolsby anytime, anywhere. She would be on the first flight back.

Puck and Sam of course tailed her to the pool house and sat her down on the armchair she'd occupied not long ago when she had spoken with Finn. They questioned her motives. They asked her about her certainty. Quinn knew they were just being her best friends and they were acting out of concern, but sometimes they could be a bit much. However, she patiently told them she was sure and she missed Rachel and she just wanted to see her, even if it was just for a moment. She fully expected the brunette to slam the door in her face.

They reluctantly let her go. And now she was standing here, outside Santana and Brittany's door and hoping that Rachel would at least let her in. Quinn's grip on the nylon handle of her carry-on tightened as she hesitantly raised a tensed fist to the door, and knocked thrice.

She couldn't help but smile when she heard glasses clatter and something crashing to the floor – she winced – and Rachel cursing under her breath. Then she realized how much she missed that voice, despite the low volume of it. She waited as the other woman stumbled on the other side of the door and finally unlocked it.

It felt like déjà vu as the door swung open and they both stood there wide-eyed. It felt like they were brought back to when they re-met all that time ago when Quinn had accepted the bodyguard job. Only this time, Quinn knew who she was going to see.

Rachel's eyes were wide as saucers and Quinn could hear her breath hitch. Quinn smiled softly at Rachel as she took in the brunette's appearance. She had lost a bit of weight, and her hair was not as glossy as it usually was, but was still neatly combed. She was clad in a loose teddy bear T-shirt and pair of casual purple shorts.

 _Beautiful_ , Quinn thought.

"Quinn," Rachel breathed.

"Hey."


	20. unwanted visitor

Twenty silent minutes had passed since Rachel had invited Quinn inside. The pair sat on the couch without saying a word. Neither knew quite where to start. Being reluctantly pulled apart could do that to someone, they supposed.

Quinn's eyes roved over Rachel's face, unashamedly taking in everything she had missed the past few days, while Rachel had suddenly found the patterns on the carpet quite interesting. Her mind was racing. She had no idea what Quinn was doing here and didn't know how to feel about her sudden appearance. She was uncertain if she should slap Quinn or kick her in the crotch for doing this to her.

She finally realized that keeping quiet wasn't going to answer any of her questions, so she took the plunge. "What are you doing here?"

Quinn blinked and swallowed. Her throat felt dry. She had so many things she wanted to say; starting with how sorry she was and ending with how much she loved the woman in front of her. She just didn't know how to give voice to them. The words were spinning in her head a little too fast and she couldn't catch up. She opened her mouth but the words refused to come. She wondered briefly if she had become mute.

Rachel shot up from her end on the couch and spun to face Quinn. Her eyes were intense as she glowered at Quinn and her arms were flailing in the air as she tried to express how pissed off and confused and happy she was to finally get to see Quinn. She garbled and made unintelligible noises and then finally, her arms fell as she stared at Quinn helplessly.

The scene would have been comical if it wasn't for the gravity of the situation.

Quinn uncurled her legs from under her and stood up. She hesitated as she reached forward to hold Rachel's shoulders but that hesitation left as she caught the glimmer of hope behind the conflicting emotions in the brunette's clear brown eyes. God, she missed those eyes. She ran her hands up and down the other woman's arms and gulped again.

"I'm not here to bring you back," she began in a whisper and she knew the grunt would come. She also expected the shove too.

Rachel stormed towards the breakfast bar and swung back around violently, her hair swishing around her. Quinn couldn't help but think that Rachel being so angry was kind of a turn on. "Then what are you doing here?" she demanded angrily. "I know Santana has been keeping tabs on me so you wouldn't have to come here and check for yourself. And if you're here to ask me why I kept refusing to talk to you, then wow you must be more of an idiot than I thought you were."

Quinn sighed and she waited for Rachel to finish her rant before she took the few strides to stand directly in front of Rachel again. "I'm here because I'm sorry." Rachel scoffed and looked away. "I'm sorry that I've made you cried so much and I'm sorry for having done this. But would I do it again if the same thing were to happen? Yes."

The brunette scoffed again and shook her head. "You are unbelievable," she whispered, still not looking at the other woman.

The bodyguard shrugged and tried to lighten the mood. "It's why you love me." Rachel couldn't resist smiling slightly at the joking, and unfortunately, accurate remark. "I know you need me. And I know I need you." Quinn gently turned Rachel's head so she could look at her properly. "I need you  _so much_ ," she emphasized. "It's because of how much I need you that I had to send you here."

Rachel's heart swelled at Quinn's words and she reached up to hold Quinn's hand against her cheek, leaning into her touch. "Do you have any idea how much I missed you?"

The blonde smirked. "You want me to come here and brighten up this place for you. You want to wake up and kiss me good morning. You miss me and you love me and you just want me," she quoted, mimicking the words Rachel spoke when Finn called her and watched as surprise and amusement took over the brunette's face.

Rachel chuckled and shook her head fondly. "I should have known."

"I wouldn't be here if it weren't for him. So you should thank him. Profusely."

"I'm not sure about that. I'm still angry at you."

"I know. But at least you're smiling and joking with me." Rachel rolled her eyes. Her self-control melted away with one glance and she leaped into Quinn's warmth, wrapping her arms tightly around her and inhaling her scent. Quinn slithered an arm around Rachel's torso and she held a hand gently against her head. She kissed the top of Rachel's head and closed her eyes. "I'm so sorry, Rachel."

The actress squeezed her arms almost impossibly tighter around her bodyguard. "We're gonna have to have a lot of makeup sex before I can forgive you," she jested, her voice muffled by the fabric of Quinn's leather jacket.

Quinn laughed into Rachel's hair. She had forgotten how much she missed the brunette's spontaneity. "I will keep that in mind." They stayed locked in their embrace, with Quinn eventually shifting themselves toward the couch and pulling Rachel onto her lap. "I love you so much."

Rachel made a mental squeal at the confession and leaned back to smile lovingly at Quinn, her hands cupped behind Quinn's neck. "I love you too." Quinn didn't grin. This wasn't a moment appropriate for grinning. She returned the smile, though it faded along with Rachel's as they were suddenly reminded of the melancholy situation. The brunette's hand came up to brush a strand of stray hair back. "When are you going back?" she whispered.

"Tuesday," Quinn answered with hesitance, afraid of the response she would receive. Surprisingly, Rachel only stared at her for a few moments before her chest heaved with a sigh and she nodded as she pursed her lips. "You're not going to yell at me?"

Rachel shrugged. "What's the point? You're going back anyway and I'd rather spend these two days with joy rather than yell at you. And I love you too much," she added.

"Can I kiss you?"

Rachel drew back a little to stare at the blonde, who only stared back with longing and curiosity. She raised both eyebrows and Quinn raised hers back at her. Rachel finally rolled her eyes and leaned into lay her lips upon Quinn's, savoring and remembering because she needed this. She wondered if she had ever needed anyone as much as she needed Quinn.

"This doesn't mean I'm not still angry with you," Rachel muttered against Quinn's lips. Quinn barely had a chance to make a sound before Rachel straddle her lap and pushed her back against the couch. "You hear me?" she muttered again, before thrusting her tongue into Quinn's mouth.

Quinn sucked in a breath as one of Rachel's hands wandered into her jacket and moved to her lower back, touching her back dimple through the thin cotton of her shirt. She kissed Rachel harder and her hand landed on Rachel's ass, squeezing it, while the other remained around her torso to hold her steady against her.

Rachel finally broke the kiss, resting her forehead to Quinn's and panting for air. They could feel each other's harsh breaths on their lips. Quinn gave a breathless chuckle and leaned in to peck Rachel on the lips again.

She could tell by the way Rachel's eyes darkened what was going to happen soon. She gulped as a wave of heat pooled between her thighs and she squirmed. "Santana's going to be pissed," she said.

Rachel shook her head, moving off Quinn's lap to lay back on the couch. "I really don't care right now." She pulled Quinn down on top of her and smiled as the blonde settled her lower body between her legs. She reached up to brush Quinn's hair back. "Make love to me."

The blonde groaned and swooped down to attack Rachel's lips with her own. They didn't start off gentle and tender, this was rough. It was harsh and fierce and exhilarating. They both needed to discharge themselves of their pent up energy and they  _needed_  each other like they needed air. They would do tender and loving later. Just not now.

Quinn's fingers curled around the hem of Rachel's oversized sweater. The brunette pushed up so Quinn could pull it up easily. As quick as flash, the sweater was off and she was half naked. Quinn couldn't help the leer that crawled upon her face when she saw that Rachel hadn't worn a bra.

"It's like you knew I would be here," Quinn husked and swiftly nuzzled Rachel's neck, laying a strand of kisses on her smooth, tanned skin.

Rachel groaned halfway into her laugh and arched slightly as Quinn bit down on a sensitive spot. She let out a little yelp when Quinn suddenly gripped her upper thigh, holding it over her waist. "Oh god," she whispered loudly and tugged on Quinn's hair, pulling her closer for a kiss. When Quinn's hand moved upwards and her fingers grazed her between her thighs, she whimpered and moaned. The coil in her stomach grew tighter and she was desperate for Quinn to touch her. "Quinn," she whimpered against Quinn's lips.

The blonde groaned into Rachel's mouth and bit into her bottom lip. Rachel's body surged with energy and her desperation only grew. Quinn drew back abruptly and she quickly took off her jacket and with Rachel's help, her shirt too. Her baby blue bra only complimented her pale skin. Rachel's breath hitched when she saw Quinn's abs rippling underneath her taunt skin. She released a low hum and reached out to touch them.

"God, you're so sexy," she muttered and with all the strength she had, she flipped their positions and laid on top of Quinn. Fire was  _roaring_  in her blood vessels and her brain was nothing but blank white. She wanted Quinn and she was going to have Quinn. She thanked whatever deity up there when she saw that Quinn's bra was a front clasp one. Her hands flew to the clasp and he flung it across the room. Her throat dried as Quinn's full pale breasts came into view..

Quinn gasped as Rachel's mouth clasped over her nipple and sucked on it. She hadn't felt this good in so long. Nobody else could make her feel this good and desperate. She had had sexual experiences before but nothing had been like this. She missed this. She clung to Rachel, wanting this to stay forever. Wetness pooled between her thighs when she felt Rachel bit down on her nipple.

She pushed Rachel so they could sit upright and looked Rachel in the eyes as her hands went to work on the laces of Rachel's shorts. She let out a triumphant noise as she finally loosened the knot and pulled Rachel to her knees to pull them off. The discarded shorts landed on the corner of the television, a pair of pink lace panties joined seconds later. Rachel pushed Quinn down onto her back and squealed when Quinn flipped them over again.

The squeal turned into a hearty moan when Quinn kissed her and simultaneously dragged her hand down the length of her body, finally coming to rest in the heat between her parted legs. She gasped as Quinn found her nub and began gently rolling it with her fingers. Quinn's mouth traveled down to her collarbone and she pinned Rachel down when her back arched. Quinn chuckled throatily and kissed the back of Rachel's ear.

Rachel was so wet. She was so wet and she needed Quinn's fingers inside her now. Her jaw dropped in a pleasurable gasp when Quinn's middle finger traced her slit. "Fuck," she cursed and arched again, only to be pinned down by Quinn's weight. "Quinn,  _please_ ," she pleaded, her fingers clawing down Quinn's back. The teasing had to stop because she was sure she going to implode if Quinn didn't do it soon.

Quinn felt her own wetness slicked her thighs at Rachel's voice and her fingers left Rachel temporarily so she could undo her jeans. Rachel helped and pushed Quinn's panties aside to touch Quinn. They both groaned at the sensation.

"Together," Rachel grunted into Quinn's ear and the blonde only nodded. She wasn't sure if she could say anything at the moment.

They slid their fingers into each other at the same time and pushed against one another, grinding together. Their bodies were slick with sweat as they slid together, thrusting to the same rhythm, their hips meeting every time. Quinn's buried her face into Rachel's neck while Rachel dug her chin into the curve between Quinn's shoulder and neck as the sensation tore through their bodies, shooting into their brains. It felt like fireworks each time they pushed in and their ears were ringing with each other's screams and moans and curses and the slaps of their bodies.

"I'm. So. Close," Quinn bit out with each thrust, grunting and gasping in between.

Rachel nodded, as if to say she was the same. They lost their rhythm as their hips jerked sporadically and they came together; the biggest firework set off, creating the loudest and most pleasurable explosion they had each felt in four years. They each removed their hands, and Quinn ground her hips against Rachel's, riding out their orgasms. Their arms were tight and taut around each other.

They collapsed against each other, panting and grinning; the smell of sweat and sex in the air. Their bones and muscles were limp and Quinn felt like she could sleep for days. She groaned with exhaustion as she pushed herself on her elbows and leaned down to kiss Rachel tenderly. They kissed a few more times before they finally drew back and smiled at each other.

It was glorifying. It wasn't just sex. It was them telling each other 'I love you'. It was words spoken in action. It was everything they'd dream it would. Not even their first time together could compare to this. It was that magnificent.

"I missed you," Rachel whispered, her fingers stroking the wisps of Quinn's hair at the back of her neck. She didn't mean for the past few days. She meant for the last four years. She missed Quinn every day. "I'm glad you're back."

Quinn buried her face into Rachel's neck. "I love you," she mumbled tiredly, her eyes already drooping.

"I love you too," whispered Rachel.

They both fell into dreamless slumber.

* * *

"Oh my god!" Then there was a slam of the door and someone cursing very loudly and another one laughing and trying to comfort the cursing one.

Quinn and Rachel jolted awake and stared at each other wide eyed. Rachel's jaw dropped while Quinn was trying to suppress the giggles bubbling inside her. She pushed herself off the couch and traipsed all over the room for her clothes while throwing Rachel's to her as she hurried her along with harsh whispers from the couch.

Rachel was just clasping her bra and Quinn had just finished buttoning her jeans when Santana yelled, "I do not care if one of you have your tits on display, I am coming the fuck in because this is my place and you guys have just fucked on my couch."

The blonde's eyes widened a fraction and she literally pounced on Rachel, covering her with her body while the other yelped and tried to push her away, struggling to grab her sweater from the couch back. Quinn groaned and took it and helped Rachel pull it on as the door opened to reveal a very irritated Santana and a gleeful Brittany.

Quinn sat upright and pulled Rachel with her. Naturally, she slipped her arms around Rachel as they sat on their knees on the couch. Quinn stared at them with no abash; Rachel hid her face in Quinn's chest and groaned.

"There is a  _bedroom_ for a reason," Santana said very loudly, dumping her stuff on the armchair and heading to the kitchen. She opened and slammed a few drawers and cabinets until she found the one she needed. "Christ, how many glasses of vodka do I have to drink to forget that?" she muttered to herself as she retrieved a bottle of vodka and a glass.

"Santana, be nice," Brittany admonished gently as she sat down on the armchair. Then she wiggled her brows at the couple on the couch. "How was it?"

The other blonde winked and gave Brittany a toothy grin. "Like you wouldn't believe," she croaked. She winced when Rachel smacked her arm, but kept smirking otherwise. "Stop complaining, Santana! You and Brittany had been doing it on  _my_  couch for years."

"What? We did not!" Santana said with a feigned gasp and a hand on her chest as she stared at her best friend from the kitchen bar. "How dare you!" Quinn only raised an eyebrow at her until Santana admitted defeat and turned her back to them, downing the glass of vodka. She poured herself another glass without another word.

Quinn hummed and nodded self-righteously. She turned back to Rachel who managed to somehow glare lovingly at her, half of her face still hidden in Quinn's chest. Quinn winked. "That's what I thought," she whispered.

"You know, I am very uncomfortable in this position and this couch really wasn't that comfortable to begin with, so my back is aching," Rachel hinted with a meaningful glance at Quinn.

Quinn unfolded her legs from beneath her without another word. She settled comfortably on the couch before pulling Rachel along so they could cuddle. "Better?"

Rachel answered by nodding her head and snuggling closer.

"Aw," Brittany drew out and smiled at them. "I'm glad you guys have made up."

"We have not made up," Rachel insisted, stubborn as ever. Her actions contradicted her words. "We have simply reached a truce."

"Do you consider that our first makeup sex?" Quinn mumbled. It was still loud enough for their two other companions to hear.

Santana had already deposited herself in Brittany's lap since she was certainly not going to sit with the two lovebirds. She shuddered and buried her head into Brittany's neck. She let out a long painful moan and said, "Can you two please go away?"

Quinn and Rachel ignored her request naturally. Rachel only shifted so she could look up at Quinn. Her eyes were dark once again and there was a seducing smirk on her face which only served to make Quinn want to devour her right there and then again. "We still have a lot of making up to do before I can completely forgive you," she said throatily.

The blonde's features were tight as she stared back at Rachel, her eyes were alert. She released a quiet groan, heard only by Rachel, who felt the vibrations through her chest.

Quinn licked her bottom lip and inclined her head until her mouth was next to Rachel's ear. "You wanna go make up some more now?" she asked in a light whisper.

Rachel closed her eyes and she bit her bottom lip. She tightened her arms around Quinn and maneuvered so she could sit on Quinn's lap. It was a signal. The blonde could only grin. She carefully stood up. Rachel wrapped her legs around Quinn tightly and bit down on her neck, tearing a moan from her, as she was carried to the bedroom. They didn't even bother to say goodbye to the two other occupants of the room, which they had promptly forgotten.

Santana finally looked up when she heard the lock latched into place. She gazed at her girlfriend with a sour look. "They forgot us, didn't they?"

Brittany grinned and nodded happily. She was just glad that her friends were made up – even if Rachel said they hadn't. "How about we go and make our own magic together?" she suggested.

The Latina's frown turned into a grin and she immediately stood up, holding her hand out to her girlfriend. "I  _love_  that idea."

* * *

Quinn's phone rang in her jacket pocket, which was hanging on the corner of the bedpost. She jerked awake and was in a blur for a moment before she realized what it was. Rachel groaned, apparently displeased, and buried her face into the pillow.

Quinn carefully extracted her arm from around Rachel and pushed herself upright so she could get her incessantly ringing phone. She muttered her complaint once she fished it out and saw who was calling her. She rolled her eyes and answered it, knowing the caller would just keep calling if she rejected it.

"What do you want?"

"Remember when I said I'd tear your face off when I see you?"

"You wanna do it now?"

"Gladly." There was a noise from the earpiece that echoed from out in the living room. "Come on out. I made coffee."

"Fine."

Quinn disconnected the call. She dumped her phone on the bedside table and slid out of bed. She only realized she'd left her carry-on outside when she was looking for it. She cursed herself and made do with the shirt and her jeans. She made sure to take her phone so that it wouldn't wake Rachel up if it rang.

She tiptoed out and gently closed the door. She ran a hand through her hair while making her way to down the hallway to the living room. She rolled her eyes when she saw Santana spraying the couch down.

"Really?" she said in annoyance. "You're acting like I have STD or something."

Santana only shrugged and sat down on the armchair, drinking her coffee. "Better safe than sorry," she said, her voice clearer from the warm liquid she had just drank. "Sit down."

Quinn's eyebrow rose. "Where exactly am I supposed to sit?"

Santana made a dismissive gesture at the couch. "Don't worry. The thing dries quickly."

The bodyguard pulled a face and she gingerly deposited herself on the edge of the couch. She made a sound of approval when she discovered that it was really dry. She leaned over to grab the other coffee cup and sipped from it. She hummed in appreciation as she savored the taste.

"So what made you come to your senses and decide to come to the capital of the country?"

"Finn Hudson." Santana directed a disbelieving look at her. Quinn only nodded. "He talked to Rachel, apparently, and he initially made plans to come here himself to keep Rachel company. He came storming at me like a bumbling idiot and accused me of being stupid –"

"Surprisingly, he's right," Santana cut in.

Quinn rolled her eyes. "He offered his tickets, claiming his girlfriend would understand. So I packed up my bag, gave proper instructions to the team, made Puck and Sam the interim leader and then flew here to grovel." She stared into space for a couple of seconds before making a sound. "It didn't take as much as I thought it would."

"She hadn't got any for days. What the hell do you expect?" Once again, Quinn rolled her eyes. "I'm surprised Kurt didn't tag along."

"I lied to him; told him I only had one ticket. God knows how much of Rachel's time he would monopolize if I brought him along. I'd be going home without actually doing anything productive." Santana smirked. They stayed silent for a few moments. "Where is Brittany?" Quinn asked, realizing the dancer's absence.

The Latina removed the cup from her lips and raised her brows at Quinn with a satisfied smirk. "Just because you're getting some doesn't mean I can't get it too."

"No wonder the house smells like sex," Quinn quipped.

They laughed together before sobering down. Santana put down the cup and propped her elbows on her knees. This time, the humor was all gone. "So how far have you gotten with Goolsby?"

Quinn mirrored Santana's position. "We're still waiting."

"He's still no show?"

Quinn's mouth pulled with a frown and she shook her head with a harsh exhale. "Nope."

"What if he found out that Berry's here?"

"She does have a first name."

"Not the point," Santana dismissed.

Quinn sighed. "That's unlikely, but if he found out, He had better show up today or tomorrow. Then I won't have to come back here and confront him."

"He's a smart man, Fabray. For all we know, he's bugged the mansion. He might have overheard your talk with Frankenteen."

"I know how smart he is, Santana. He was my mentor, so to speak. He's gonna be one step ahead of me forever. All I can do is catch up with him." Santana reached out to pat Quinn's forearm to show that she understood. "Does Brittany know it's him?"

Santana pursed her lips and shook her head. "I didn't tell them."

Quinn habitually touched her hearing aid to make sure it was there and looked at Santana. "Don't," she said.

"I won't."

They sat, surrounded by comfortable silence. They weren't the kind of friends to have long talks. They could sit in silence and know what the other was thinking. They were that close, despite being apart for four years. They still knew each other. Quinn really missed these moments with her best friend.

* * *

She started when a pair of arms slunk around her waist. She looked over her shoulder to see Rachel smiling cheekily at her. She lifted her arms to put them back down around her shoulders. She smiled back and leaned into peck Rachel on the lips and nose.

"Hello, sleepyhead," she said adoringly. "How'd you sleep?"

Rachel pulled the stool next to Quinn and climbed on it, her arms transferring to Quinn's arm. "It was great."

Santana glanced back to nod at Rachel before returning to making dinner. Brittany waved cheerily and went back to help Santana. Quinn and Rachel watched them move around the kitchen in complete sync. They each wondered when it would be  _their_ turn. They turned to look at each other knowingly and Quinn's free hand reached up to poke Rachel's nose.

 _I love you_ , she mouthed.

 _I know_ , Rachel mouthed back.

Quinn grinned and squeezed her arm around Rachel.

The doorbell rang not fifteen minutes later. Quinn kissed Rachel on the forehead and slipped off the stool. She absentmindedly scratched her stomach as she walked to the door. She pulled it open and froze. Her heart stopped for a beat.

Dustin Goolsby stood on the other side, clad from head to toe in black, from his shirt and leather jacket to his khakis and riding boots. He had a grin on his face as if this was a casual meet up and he was only here for a visit; they both knew he had grimmer motives.

"Aren't you going to invite me in?" he asked, loud enough for just both of them to hear.

Quinn slammed the door and swiftly locked it. A bang sounded against the door. Quinn clenched her jaw and ran to the couch, pushing it with all her strength to block the door. The noises had alerted the other occupants that something was wrong. They stopped what they were doing and stared wide eyed at Quinn, who already had the couch halfway to the door.

The door already had a crack in it.

Santana abandoned the pan she was holding and rushed to help Quinn. They grunted in their efforts to move the couch, ignoring the loud bangs against the door. Rachel and Brittany jumped with each bang. Quinn made a sound of triumph when they finally succeeded in pushing the sofa against the door.

"Dustin?"

Quinn nodded, her heart thumping erratically. "Take Rachel and Brittany and get out through the fire exit. I don't care what you hear or see. Do not come back."

"Quinn."

"Do not. Come back." Quinn's glare was enough to make Santana back down and simply nod. "And call for backup while you're running." She hurried towards Rachel while Santana sprinted to the other side of the room to open the fire exit. "Hey, Rach, hey, calm down, okay? Both of you." She eyed Rachel then Brittany. "Go with Santana. Run. I'll be fine. Don't worry about me. I'll be fine," she reassured, though her shaky voice said otherwise.

"Quinn," Rachel whimpered softly. Brittany had already gone to Santana. "Quinn, who is it?" Her lower lip was trembling and she was already crying. "Quinn?"

"It's no one. I'll handle him. I promise it'll be over in the blink of an eye. You won't even have enough time to miss me." Quinn grabbed her forearms and pulled her in to kiss her on the lips. She released Rachel too soon for her liking and rubbed her forearms. "I love you, okay? I love you so much. I'll be fine."

Rachel knew she would be more hindrance than help to Quinn if she stayed. She knew enough to not resist this time. All she could do was cry and allow Quinn to pull her to the fire exit latch. Before she climbed in to join the other two, she glanced behind her long enough to see another crack in the door. She turned back to Quinn, unwilling to look at the door. "Come back to me," she pleaded.

Quinn gave her a promising but shaky smile. "I will," she whispered. She kissed Rachel on the forehead and hurriedly tucked Rachel thru the hatch and to the other side. "I love you."

"I love you," Rachel said heavily and shot Quinn a longing look before she wiped at her tears and hurried along with Santana.

The bangs grew louder and stronger and Quinn knew the door wouldn't hold much longer. She pulled the latch shut, locking it before she sprinted into the bedroom to retrieve the knife and gun she'd hidden in the drawer. She knew they would come to use. She shoved her gun into the back of her jeans and held the knife at the ready. She stood behind the kitchen bar and waited for Dustin to barge in.

She waited, her heart thumping rhythmically to the bangs, making tragically ugly music together.

Maybe it was her gut. Maybe it was her past experiences, but she knew this bang would be the one that would allow Dustin in and probably take her life. She closed her eyes and clung to the only hope she had. She smiled surreptitiously when she watched Rachel laughing with that infectious laugh of hers in her mind's eye.

"Hello, love."

Her eyes snapped open and she steeled herself.


	21. maniac

"You're a maniac."

He chuckled and swaggered in, pushing the couch away as though it were made of flimsy cardboard. He grinned at her and bowed. "Thank you, love."

She clenched her jaw and fought a shudder. "Don't call me that."

"Oh believe me, Quinn, after this, I can call you whatever I want," he said with a wink and a cocky grin. "Now, now, let's get to business." He slapped his hands together and rubbed them like an excited kid. "Where is Rachel Berry? I gotta get rid of her so you can come to your senses. Then we can ride into the sunset and have our happily ever after."

Quinn put down the knife, drew her gun and aimed at his chest. She rounded the breakfast bar and pulled the safety. "You won't find them," she husked. "And we're not riding anywhere except to Headquarters. That is, when I'm done with you."

He stared at her for a moment before he broke into hysterics. He leaned forward and braced his hands on his knees as he laughed boisterously. She gulped. She knew what he was laughing about. There was less than fifty per cent chance for her to actually take him down. He was strong. He was stealthy. Hell, he was her mentor. She could only hope help would arrive before he managed to take her down instead.

"I've called for backup so don't get your hopes up," she threatened, her voice slightly shaky.

Dustin picked up on it and he sobered, shaking his head and clicking his tongue simultaneously. He sauntered towards her, showing no apprehension at being held at gunpoint. He stopped when the nozzle knocked against his chest. "Come now, Quinn. I'm not stupid. I've temporarily collapsed the system and cut through all their connections. Much easier to take out Headquarters than I thought it would be. They're pretty much in a blackout now. Frantic, might I add."

* * *

Santana looked down at her phone in frustration. She angrily pressed the buttons on the screen, calling Headquarters yet again.

"Damn it, the line won't pick up," she gritted between her teeth. She threw a bunch of keys at Brittany as they stopped in front of an antique shop. "Britts, open it up." She punched the numbers again and actually whined when she heard the same robotic voice telling her that the service was unavailable. She pocketed her phone and pushed both Rachel and Brittany in the antique shop and locking the doors behind her.

"Why are we here?" Rachel questioned frantically.

"I bought this place and sold it to an old man so he can think this is his antique shop. What he doesn't know is that this place is set up for use as a safe house, in case anything were to ever happen."

* * *

Dustin reached out to touch Quinn's face but she shoved him away, her finger at the trigger. "Don't touch me!" she growled.

He chuckled and held his hands up in mock surrender. "Okay, okay," he said while chuckling. "I like it when you're feisty."

Tears rolled down her face as she stared at him. "I trusted you," she nearly wheezed. "How could you do this?"

It was as though she had flipped a switch. The grin swept off his face, replaced with a look of pure fury and twisted insanity. He swept out and hurriedly knocked the gun out of her hands before she could react. "I'm doing this because I love you!" he exclaimed. He held her wrists together tightly and loomed over her. "That bitch has done nothing but hurt you. I am helping you! I want you to open your eyes and see who it is that truly loves you! Me." His eyes widened a fraction.

She shook her head. She cried and silently begged for him to give up. She still had hopes that he would give up. She wanted him to give up. She didn't want to hurt the person who used to be her best friend. "This isn't love, Dustin." He shook his head at her words. "This isn't," she insisted.

* * *

Santana screamed and flung her phone across the room, her teeth bared in a snarl. She knelt to the floor and ran both her hands through her hair frantically. Her chest felt so tight and she fought the urge to cry. She'd never hated herself so much.

She rocked back and forth on her heels and whimpered again and again. Her best friend was out there risking her life to save their asses and all she was able to do was sit here and do nothing. She shook her head as her fingers clawed at her scalp.

"Santana?" Rachel choked.

She whined again and rocked harder. "How could I be so useless?" She slapped her palms against her head. "I can't do  _shit_!" she yelled. She looked up to see Rachel's reddened eyes staring at her, her lips trembling. The dam broke and she wailed. "I am so sorry, Rachel."

Brittany gathered Santana in her arms, tears rolling down her own face as she shakily held the woman, and tried to shush her comfortingly, though she herself felt useless as well. Rachel choked and she shook her head. She sank to her knees and shook her head frantically like a madwoman while she held Santana's face in her hands.

"No, Santana, you can't give up. You can't give up," she repeated. "Santana!" she shrieked. "Your best friend is right in there! The love of my life is right in there! There must be something you can do!"

* * *

"You won't find them," Quinn said firmly, and tried to accent her statement with a swift kick to Dustin's crotch.

His quick reflexes saved him and she ended up kicking the air. He pushed her back against the breakfast bar. Hard. The plates and silverware clattered and fell to the tiled floor. One of the plates shattered and a shard stabbed her, slightly under her shoulder. She grunted in pain.

"Tell me where they are, Quinn!" he roared. "Tell me!" He shook her and pushed her down, smashing her head off the top of the bar.

* * *

Rachel looked around her as though the answers might suddenly appear out of thin air. She was desperate for anything. She turned to Santana and handed the Latina her phone. Santana looked at her curiously.

"Call Puck! Or Sam! Call them!"

Santana shook her head and gasped for air. "It won't work, Rachel. They're too far away."

"Are the police lines down, too, Santana?" Brittany asked.

Santana looked up at her girlfriend, staring at her like she had just answered all of life's questions. "I never tried them! How could I be so stupid?" She was crying in frustration. Why couldn't she pull herself together?

Brittany pulled out her phone, dialing 911 and tried to comfort Santana at the same time.

Rachel resisted slapping Santana and went ahead to call the boys herself. She was choking on the lump in her throat and sobbing but she needed someone to help them. Help Quinn. She couldn't lose her. She covered her mouth with her palm and chanted mentally for someone to pick up the phone.

The line clicked. "Hello?"

"Marley?" Rachel breathed in relief.

"Yeah?"

"Marley, Marley, please. Is Puck or Sam there?" she said heavily, her voice thick with tears.

"Um, yeah. Hold on."

"Rachel?" Sam's voice resonated in her ear and she felt like he was a saint. "Rachel, is everything okay?"

She wheezed and sat down on the floor. "Sam, oh thank god. Sam, please, you need to get to Washington right now. Bring Puck. Bring the whole fucking team. Someone's here and he's at Santana's apartment right now. Quinn kicked us out and she's there  _alone_ fighting him. Please, Sam, you need come here now."

"Oh my god." Then she heard distinct voices in the background and some lady's voice announcing flights in the background. She frowned. "Okay, Rachel, hey, calm down, alright? Puck and Marley and I are here. We're in Washington now. We'll there as quick as possible. You just…stay wherever you are. Let us handle this, okay?"

Rachel nodded, even though Sam couldn't see her. "Okay. Hurry, Sam."

* * *

She mustered all her strength to push him back only to have him swipe a strong arm against her. He barely missed her ear as she dodged past him. She had barely moments to take a breath and steady herself before she felt herself lifted up in the air and thrown onto the floor. She couldn't hear him. She briefly touched her ear to realize that her hearing aid had fallen off.

"Shit," she whispered harshly as she felt dizziness swooping into her head. She leaped onto her feet quickly, ignoring the pain in her head and swung around to see that he had picked up the gun while she had been down. He grinned at her and waved it about, as though it were a prize.

"Dustin, you don't have to do this."

He shook his head and laughed. "Yes, I do. I have to do this so I can have you."

"Even if you do, you wouldn't have me  _completely_. I don't have feelings for you, Dustin. Why can't you see that?"

They circled each other, keeping a distance. One was looking for opportunity to strike while the other was looking for the opportunity to escape. She paused when she backed against the breakfast bar, and released a hiss as the plate shard dug deeper into her shoulder. She saw the knife she had discarded earlier. She licked her lips and held a hand out at him, as if the action would keep him at bay.

"I'm not worth it," she added. Her arm crept behind her, hand inching toward the blade on the counter. She watched as he grinned; he must have thought she was surrendering to him. Her fingers wrapped around the handle of the knife. "Dustin, please."

He ignored her outstretched hand. "I have been right here, Quinn. I listened to you whine about that bitch. I taught you so many things I wouldn't teach others. I have been right  _here_. Why can't you see  _that_?"

* * *

"Dustin must have done something to the system at Headquarters. There is no other reason that I can't reach them," Santana gritted. She was sitting back against the metal door, her arms hanging from her curled legs.

Rachel paced back and forth, biting her fingernails nervously. Anxiety tore through each and every one of her cells. She'd been checking her phone every five seconds, praying for an update. It had been ten minutes since she talked to Sam and it felt like an eternity.

"At least the cops are on their way. Rachel, you have to believe it's going to be okay," Brittany tried to soothe Rachel.

She finally released a loud, frustrated groan and stormed towards the door. Santana jumped up and dashed in front of her, pushing Rachel back with her body and wrapping her arms around the smaller woman as she fought against Santana's tight grip. Brittany rushed forward to help when she saw the wince of pain Santana made. They trapped her between them.

"Let me go!" Rachel cried, punching Santana's chest and pushing Brittany back. "Let me the fuck go!"

Santana's chin settled on Rachel's shoulder, her mouth against the actress' ear. "I can't, Rachel. I can't." Rachel ignored her and pushed more. "Rachel!" Santana snapped. "I promised Quinn, okay? I promised her _we_  wouldn't go back for her no matter what. I can't break my promise to my best friend, Rachel, alright?"

Rachel ceased struggling and leaned her forehead against Santana's chest, her body shaking with the force of her tears. "I can't lose her," she choked out between sobs. She shook her head. "I can't lose her."

Brittany gently extracted Rachel from Santana's arms and wrapped her own around the petite woman. She ran her hands up and down Rachel's back, trying to provide even the slightest bit of comfort as the other woman cried in her arms.

* * *

"You were my best friend in the army, Dustin. I thank you for it. But I don't have feelings for you. I love Rachel. Only Rachel."

Dustin bared his teeth when Quinn straightened up shakily. "Then you leave me no choice," he snarled and raised the gun, aiming at her chest.

She raced towards him on instinct. A bang sounded, muffling the sound of knife tearing into flesh. Quinn's wide eyes stared right into Dustin's. With his arm around her waist and hers around his, they toppled over, falling together. Once again, her already painful head collided harshly with the floor. She stopped breathing for a couple of seconds as the plate shard dug deeper into her shoulder.

"I…love…you," Dustin croaked before he slumped completely against her, pushing the knife deeper into his chest.

She stared up at the chandelier hanging from the ceiling, her vision blurring at the edges. She could feel the bullet buried inside her. She panted for air but the large amount of blood pouring out of her felt like it was taking her air along with it. She had no more strength. She couldn't push Dustin off; his weight only adding to her cause of lost breath.

Her ears were buzzing. She thought she could hear her blood gushing inside of her body, her heart slowing down a fraction with each beat. She could Rachel's laughter, Santana's quips, Brittany's innocent statements; everything. They were so  _loud_.

Her throat started closing up and she choked and coughed, tasting the metallic taste of her own blood. She laughed humorlessly. Was this how it was going to end? Was this it? Surprisingly, she was somehow glad. She had a happy time with Rachel. They laughed together. They made love. They reconciled.

The blur in Quinn's vision grew in its intensity until she could no longer see anything clearly. It was all fuzzy images. Three heads then appeared in her sight. She couldn't see their faces, but the blonde hair and the mohawk were telling enough. She couldn't figure out who the third person was though.

She coughed up more blood.

She couldn't hear anything. Her head felt woozy. Her pain was numbed.

She allowed herself to be consumed by darkness.

* * *

Marley stood outside the antique shop. Tear stains were glowing beneath the moonlight and she felt another wave coming. She choked and covered her mouth with her palm. She told herself that this wasn't the time to cry. She couldn't cry now.

She took a deep bracing breath. She squeezed her eyes shut to prepare herself and then opened them again. Moisture lingered behind her lids, threatening to spill. She raised her fist and knocked thrice in a uniform manner. She couldn't even smile when she heard the hasty clatter and other noises joining. Then the door was wrenched open to reveal Santana's frantic, tear stained face.

"Marley?" Santana queried and she stretched her head out to see if there was anyone else. Marley knew who she was looking for. The Latina looked back at her with a small smile which was an attempt to reassure herself. "Where's Quinn?"

Marley inhaled deeply and flexed her fingers by her thighs. "When we went to your apartment, the door was trashed. It's a mess. Quinn and Goolsby were both on the floor. He was lying on top of her. We knew he was dead." She gulped when she saw the horror making its way on Santana's face. "We pulled him aside and...Quinn was coughing up blood." Her voice cracked.

"No."

"She stabbed him, but at the same time," her throat clogged up and she cleared it. She could feel her own tears running down her face. She could hear Rachel's sobs growing louder behind Santana. "At the same time," she repeated, "he shot her. In the chest."

Santana was suddenly pushed aside and Rachel rushed out to grab Marley's arms, shaking her. Marley bit her lip at the sight of Rachel looking so devastated. "Where is Quinn, Marley? Where is she?"

"Puck went with her in the ambulance to the hospital. Sam's at the apartment with the police, analyzing the scene. I'm here to take you to the hospital." Marley lamely gestured behind her at the patrol car.

She gently grabbed Rachel's elbow and pulled her to the car, opening the backdoor for her. Rachel hastily climbed in, followed by Brittany. Santana went to the front passenger seat. Marley revved the car up and pulled out of the curb.

* * *

Rachel ignored the calls of her friends and jumped out of the car before it even stopped moving. She dashed through the emergency doors and screeched to a halt at the reception desk. She ignored the fact that people could recognize her. She ignored the fact that she looked incredibly hideous right now. All she cared about was the life and death of Quinn Fabray.

"I need to know where Quinn Fabray is," she demanded loudly. She could barely hear her friends catching up to her. The nurse looked baffled for a moment. Rachel slammed the surface of the desk. "Tell me where Quinn Fabray is!"

"Come on!" Santana urged.

The nurse nodded frantically as she checked on the computer. She cleared her throat and turned back to Rachel. "She was sent in twenty minutes ago. She's now in OR 4 on the fifth floor."

Rachel nodded curtly and dashed towards the elevator, pushing the up button countless times, muttering under her breath. She only ceased pressing when Santana gripped her wrist and held it in her hand. Santana draped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her close.

"She's going to be okay. She's going to come out the operation room and you're gonna see her smiling and joking in no time. It's all going to be okay," Santana reassured. Unbeknownst to others, she was reassuring herself as well.

Her other hand was turning white with the strength of the tight grip she had on Brittany's hand.

Puck was sitting in the waiting room when they finally reached the floor. He had a forlorn look on his face. The second thing Santana saw was the bloodied jacket on the seat next to Puck.

"Puck!" Rachel yelled from the elevator and sprinted towards him. He looked up and stood, wrapping his arms around Rachel when she reached him. "Puck, how is she?" Rachel asked, looking up at him.

He shook his head. "I don't know." His voice was hoarse and soft. She'd never hear him talk like this before. "She's in the OR and I…I don't know."

"What about Goolsby?" Santana asked.

He stared at her and she could see the anger blazing in his eyes. "The task force took his body. Said they have to do an autopsy or something. If he hadn't been dead, I would have killed him myself."

"Why are you even here?"

"We were worried about Quinn. That Goolsby dude was nuts. Who could know what he could do? Sam and I had a bad feeling, and it just wouldn't go away. So, we left Kurt with instructions for the mansion and booked the first flight out here."

Rachel fell onto the bench and buried her face in her hands. She was torn apart with concern and fear. She could hardly believe this was happening. She didn't know it would end up like this. She thought it would end civilly. She should have known by the state of Quinn's previous injuries that Goolsby wasn't so simple.

Wait a minute.

Goolsby.

She shot up onto her feet again, startling her three other friends who were still talking quietly. Rachel licked her lips and took a deep breath, and swallowed. "Are you…are you…" she stammered. She closed her eyes and breathed again. She cleared her throat. "Goolsby?" she squeaked. They all had sympathetic looks on their faces. "Dustin Goolsby?"

Brittany moved forward and made Rachel sit down again, sitting down next to the actress. She wrapped her arm around Rachel's back and leaned her chin on Rachel's shoulder, as if it would ease the shorter girl. Rachel felt numb. She couldn't feel Brittany trying to comfort her. She only felt nauseous.

The looks on her friends' faces were telling enough. Once again, she buried her face in her hands, forcing the bile down. "Oh my god," she breathed. She brushed her hair back to the sides and stared down at the tiled floor. "Oh my god." She took a couple silent minutes to contemplate this new information before she shot out of the seat and sprinted towards the nearest bathroom.

"Rachel?" Santana and Puck called after her. Brittany gestured at them to stay put as she quickly followed. She gingerly pushed the door open, and made sure to lock it behind her. She grimaced when she heard the sound of Rachel retching in one of the stalls. Brittany sighed and pulled Rachel's hair back as she hurled into the toilet bowl.

The dancer understood how Rachel felt. Well, not the Dustin part. No one had ever betrayed her on that level before, but she could imagine what it would feel like. She knew that she would never understand how it felt until she felt it herself. But she understood the Quinn part. She understood it so much.

Every day, Santana would kiss her goodbye and walk out the door in her suit and Brittany would just worry. Because Santana could easily offend  _anyone_ in her line of business and the people she could possibly offended tended to be very powerful and influential.

When Rachel was done, Brittany gently led her to the row of sinks and helped her wash up. She turned Rachel toward her and brushed her hair back. Rachel's averted eyes were red with tears. Brittany released a sympathetic sound and pulled Rachel in for a hug, which Rachel welcomed without any protest.

Rachel squeezed her eyes shut tightly and nuzzled into the fabric of Brittany's shirt. She wanted to feel Quinn. But Quinn wasn't here. Quinn was fighting for her life in the OR 4. Rachel knew Brittany wasn't Quinn. Her chest didn't feel as comfortable. Her arms weren't as accommodating. Their heights were so different. She knew.

Brittany kissed the top of Rachel's head and leaned her cheek against it. "It's gonna be okay, Rachel. It's gonna be okay."

The brunette didn't respond. She only tightened her arms around the dancer. She wasn't sure if she could believe Brittany right now.

* * *

It had been four hours so far. Four hours which had felt like eons. They were all in the waiting room, Sam joining the group not long after Rachel and Brittany had come out of the bathroom. Marley had called Kurt, who caught a Red Eye flight with Finn. All in all, it took them about two hours to reach the hospital. Santana tried to get Rachel to eat but Rachel didn't have the appetite. She was crying with Finn, and couldn't eat if she had wanted to.

In those four hours, Rachel had been doing nothing but reliving all of the moments she had shared with Quinn in her mind. From the moment they met, to the day they had fallen apart, to the minute they saw each other again four years later, to the hours they spent making love, and to the second Quinn had pushed her through the fire exit and told her she loved her.

Those moments weren't enough. They weren't enough. She needed more time with Quinn. She wanted more time with Quinn. She wanted to bring Quinn to Paris and kiss her at the Eiffel Tower. She wanted to go to Switzerland and eat chocolate with Quinn. She wanted to go to Italy and visit the beautiful churches with Quinn.

She had been waiting for her happy ending and she wanted it.

Quinn Fabray was her happy ending.

Rachel couldn't let Quinn Fabray be her tragic ending.

It was so quiet that she could hear the sounds of the doctors' hospital scrubs brushing against their owners as they moved down the hallway. She stood up and waited for Dr. Costner to make his appearance. Only he wasn't alone when he came. He was joined by another woman. They were both wearing bloodied scrubs and they looked haggard.

Rachel focused on their faces. The woman looked a little sorry. But Dr. Costner looked so sad and pitiful. And Rachel just knew. She shook her head and fell back into someone's arms. She didn't know whose and she didn't care. She could only shake her head and cry quietly as they stopped in front of her.

Dr. Costner cleared his throat and looked Rachel in the eyes. "Miss Berry, this is Dr. Altman, our cardiothoracic surgeon," he introduced. Cardio. Heart. Oh god. "When Miss Fabray was rushed in, her heart had already stopped for five minutes. We managed to get it to beat again. We found the bullet located right under the right atrium. It had taken out most of the epithelial tissue so we had to fix it. There were a number of complications when we operated. She crashed a few times. She went into V-fib twice. We still managed to save her. We fixed most of her heart. Some parts were just irreparable."

"Then why you look like that? You fixed her, right?" Santana questioned loudly. She tended to get loud when she was worried. "Dr. Costner?"

"We were able to repair a large laceration to her shoulder, and removed a plate shard, as well as a few smaller pieces of ceramic it left behind. We also found some internal bleeding. A CT scan revealed that Miss Fabray's brain was swelling, most likely the result of blunt force trauma obtained to the head at the scene. We managed to reduce the swelling. We did everything we could. It's very touch and go right now. Unfortunately, there is little to no brain activity as of now. If there is no brain activity in the next week," Dr. Costner drifted off. He smacked his lips and released a shaky sigh. He closed his eyes and shook his head.

Dr. Altman took over for him when she saw that he was unable to continue. "She is in a coma right now. With the injuries she sustained, I'm afraid it's likely that she won't wake up. If there is no change in brain activity in the next three days, we would recommend you to take her off life support."

Santana frowned. Her heart thudded heavily against her chest at the term. Life support meant she couldn't even live on her own at this point. "What do you mean?" she demanded for clarification.

"Miss Fabray isn't breathing on her own right now. Life support is what is keeping her alive. If she were to wake up, the length of time to regain her strength and energy would be extremely lengthy. We know Quinn is a fighter, so we would like to wait, but at this time, we believe her to be brain dead."

"I am so sorry," Dr. Costner whispered, his voice cracking.

Rachel could only stare at him with reddened eyes. This was it. Her worst nightmare. It was happening. The next week would be the worst week of her life. She couldn't breathe. She couldn't think. Her brain was blindingly  _white_.

The arms around her tightened and she briefly looked down to recognize a pair of long, manly arms around her waist. They were Finn's. She looked back up at the doctors and released a laugh. She gulped and laughed again.

"This is a joke, right?" she laughed. "I mean, I know it's not April's Fool but this is a joke, right? You guys are playing with me. Quinn must've set you up on it. To see if I really love her. It's not very funny, doctor."

"Rachel," Finn said.

She began shaking her head and her body was vibrating with the force of her tears. "This isn't funny, doctor," she said heavily, pleading one last time for the doctors to tell her they were joking. "It's not funny!" she finally shrieked. She leaped out of Finn's arms and pounded her fists on Dr. Costner's chest. "It isn't funny!" she cried..

A tear slid down Dr. Costner's cheek as he willingly allowed Rachel to abuse his chest. He was devastated as well. Quinn Fabray was the most special patient he had ever encountered in his thirty years of practice.

Rachel kept shrieking and crying as she punched at Dr. Costner, ignoring her friends' and Dr. Altman's attempts to pull her off the man, but she wouldn't let up. If she kept punching Dr. Costner, Quinn would come out and rescue him. She would. She was that kind of hero. So all Rachel had to do was punch Dr. Costner.

A pair of arms slid around her waist and quickly lifted her off the floor and turned her around. She kicked at the air and clawed at the arms, shrieking for her captor to let her go, to let her keep punching Dr. Costner. Because that was the only way to get Quinn to come out and calm her down and chastise her for being so violent.

"Rachel!" Finn yelled into her ears. "Rachel, stop it!" His voice sounded thick with emotion. He was crying too, she realized. "Rach, come on! Stop it!" He squeezed her waist to emphasize his point. Gradually, she ceased screaming and struggling, collapsing back against Finn and weeping. She felt him kneeling down and lowering her onto his knee. She wrapped her arms around his neck and sobbed into him. "I know, Rach. I know," he shushed and rocked her.

He never would have thought he would have had two beautiful women sitting on his lap in two days time for two completely different reasons. He would give anything for Quinn to be able to be the one in his arms, laughing with him.

"I know."

His voice echoed in the room, resounding everyone's thoughts.

* * *

Only two people were allowed in the ICU at a time. Rachel, naturally, would be in there all day until visiting hours were over. She nearly threw up again when she saw the machines and the tubes connected to Quinn in the hospital bed.

As if to prove that Quinn had no brain activity at the moment, Dr. Costner opened Quinn's eyelids, shining his flashlight in her eyes to see if there was any pupil response. He shook his head and excused himself quietly.

"She's going to wake up for you, Rachel. She will do her best to wake up so she can see you again," Kurt said when it was his turn to see Quinn.

His words fell onto deaf ears. She didn't care what they said. All she cared about was Quinn. She had already made the decision to stay on hospital property over the next two days because she needed to be there when Quinn woke up.

They were probably arguing about her film or something but she couldn't bring herself to care either. She was too exhausted. She gingerly took Quinn's hand in hers, stroking the back of Quinn's hand with her thumb. She kissed the blonde's knuckles and propped her chin on their joined hands, staring at Quinn's face, willing her eyes to open.

"I will never sing again if you die on me, Quinn," Rachel said softly. "I swear I won't. So you had best  _wake up_ ," Rachel threatened softly. She clenched her jaw and kissed Quinn's hand again. "Please."

She spent the rest of the day in the ICU until visiting hours were over. Dr. Costner had somehow managed to get her a bed set up in the hallway for her to sleep on. She slept for no more than three hours. She only ate because Santana was forcing soup down her throat.

Rachel's dads and Quinn's sister, Frannie, joined them the next morning. Frannie claimed that Quinn hadn't even told her she was back, or that she had taken a bodyguard position for Rachel. Rachel's dads refrained from admonishing her for not calling them about Quinn's reappearance in her life when they saw how forlorn and disheveled their daughter looked.

* * *

She closed her eyes when the paper was slid in front of her. It was an illusion, and if she closed her eyes, the paper would disappear and she wouldn't have to face this nightmare.

"Miss Berry," Dr. Costner coaxed.

She shook her head and turned away. Frannie was standing behind her. The rest of her friends gathered outside the ICU, watching from the open door. They all had the same sympathetic looks on their faces, though Santana and Brittany looked like they were in as much despair as Rachel.

"Why me," Rachel asked, softly, "Why do I have to make this decision?"

Frannie came up behind her and put a comforting hand on Rachel's shoulder. She spoke quietly, trying to maintain a steady voice as she explained. "Do you remember, before you and Quinn broke up, having your will's drawn up? I remember, it was probably two or three years into your relationship, and Quinn pushed you into doing them 'just in case'. Well, she never had her will updated. You both signed Power of Attorney, and Health Care Proxy agreements for each other. Legally, you are the only one who can make this decision. I'm so sorry, Rachel."

Dr. Costner sighed. "Miss Berry, it has been a week. I am sorry but you have to make a decision. Miss Fabray has had no sign of brain activity whatsoever and we have decided to declare her officially brain dead." Rachel whimpered at the term. "As a doctor, I am not supposed to encourage or discourage you in any way. But as a personal acquaintance, I know Miss Fabray, however short our acquaintance may be. And I have seen how much you two love each other. I am sure Miss Fabray wouldn't want you to be this way."

"Stop."

"Even if you keep her here, life support is the only thing keeping her alive. She's only here physically. She isn't here completely, Miss Berry. Why would you want to keep her stranded here when you can let her go completely? So her soul can find peace somewhere."

"Please stop," Rachel sniffled.

"Rachel," Frannie whispered, squeezing Rachel's shoulder. "Rachel, I understand how you feel. Quinn is my sister. I…it's hard for me as well. But the doctor is right. And I'm certain my mom is up there waiting for her with a big plate of bacon ready so they could watch  _Alice_  together."

The brunette stared down at Quinn's unconscious form.  _Alice in the Wonderland_  was her favorite movie. She reached out to hold Quinn's hand with both of hers. "I'm not willing to let her go," she said.

"I know, Rachel. Neither am I. But there's no point of keeping her body here when she can't…wake up anymore," Frannie stuttered, inhaling sharply to keep the tears at bay. She wiped her nose with the sleeve of her sweater and squeezed Rachel's shoulder again. "Let her go, Rach."

Santana spun on her heel and ran, her palm against her mouth and bloodshot eyes as Rachel finally and shakily took the paper and pen from Dr. Costner. Brittany followed behind Santana, looking much the same. Kurt closed his eyes and crossed his arms, feeling the ache in his chest. Puck and Sam mirrored each other's position, leaning against the door frame with their hands in their pockets. Marley collapsed onto the bed and sobbed into her hands. Finn looked down at his shoes and shook his head, a lone tear falling from his eye.

They were all letting Quinn go.

* * *

Dr. Costner promised them all time to say their goodbyes. Mysteriously, Rachel had disappeared.

Marley was the first. She gingerly took Quinn's hand and sighed. She couldn't even talk for the first thirty seconds. "Quinn," she croaked, her voice hoarse from crying, "you have been a  _really_  great leader. I have learned so much from you, Quinn. You were also a really great friend. I am so thankful that I got to spend some time with you when you were stuck in bed. I had a lot of fun with you. Thank you, Quinn, for being a good leader and a good friend."

Finn followed. He stood at the foot of the bed watching Quinn's chest rise and fall from the ventilator. His face scrunched up in his effort to not bawl his eyes out, or kneel down at the foot of the bed to beg for her to wake up so they could play COD again. He would've let her win each and every round if she would just wake up. In the end, he didn't say anything, claiming he was thirsty as he headed for the elevator.

Kurt came in after Finn. He stood next to Quinn and cleared his throat. "I hated you," was the first thing he said. "I did. But you made Rachel so happy. I have never seen Rachel as happy with anyone else like she was with you. So, I couldn't hate you anymore. I'm very grateful to you for being so brave, to risk your life to protect her. I'm very grateful to you for being so devoted to Rachel, giving her the best love she will probably ever have. So uh…thank you, Fabray. I owe you."

Puck and Sam stood on either side of Quinn. Puck had his hands shoved in his pockets while Sam held one of Quinn's hands in his own. "You weren't supposed to  _die_ ," Puck whispered. "You were supposed to outlive both of us because we're both idiots and you're just so smart. You were supposed to be the one to watch our backs." Puck's face crumbled and he lowered onto his knees. He rested his head against her arm and cried, "I love you, Q Fab. I love you."

Sam watched from his side and he shook his head. "I love you, Blondie," Sam whispered as he leaned down to kiss her forehead. He could almost feel her smacking him on the head and scolding him for calling her that.

They both walked out.

Santana dared the nurse to protest when she sat on the edge of Quinn's bed, pulling Brittany arms around her, seeking comfort. She reached out to touch Quinn's thigh. "The Unholy Trinity," she breathed with a watery smile, "starting together, ending together."

Brittany leaned down to kiss her girlfriend's head. Then she took Santana's hand, leading it towards Quinn's and enclosed their fingers around it. "Just the way it should be."

Frannie received a pat on the shoulder from Santana when she walked in. She sat on the chair Rachel had been occupying for the past few days, and daringly put her ear against Quinn's chest, listening to Quinn's heartbeat thumping. "I am so sorry for not being there when Dad was around, Quinn. I am so sorry for leaving you alone. I'm still surprised you forgave me and called me in the first place. Robert sends his love. He's on his way but we both know he won't be able to make it." She breathed deeply and closed her eyes, focusing on Quinn's heartbeat for a moment. She finally opened her eyes and stood up, lowering her head to kiss Quinn's cheek. "You're the best sister anyone could ask for. I love you."

Rachel was rushing down the hallway as Frannie came out of Quinn's room, a bouquet of gardenia in her hands. She halted and stood, staring at her friends and her parents and Quinn's sister all looking at her. She didn't know if she should be glad that it was her turn. The tightness in her chest only increased with each step she took, until she was finally inside and by Quinn's bedside.

She looked down at the bouquet of gardenia in her hands and then back up at Quinn. She stared silently at her for ten minutes, memorizing her every feature. Abruptly, she began maneuvering through the wires and tubes, climbing onto the bed and settling her body beside Quinn. She loosely draped an arm across Quinn's waist after she rested the bouquet on Quinn's chest. She brushed Quinn's hair back and stared down at Quinn's serene and pale face.

"They're your favorite, Quinn," she whispered. "The idiot downstairs didn't know how to make a corsage, and he didn't have a light green ribbon so I guess this will have to do." She rested her cheek against Quinn's forehead and closed her eyes, a small smile tugging on her lips. "That was one of our best nights together. The look on your face was priceless. You said that was the best birthday you've ever had. I wonder if it's still true." She opened her eyes, waiting – only to remember that she wouldn't be able to hear Quinn's voice ever again.

"You've saved me so many times. From the moment we met until…that day," she breathed. "You've saved me. And I just hate that I didn't get the chance to save you. I haven't saved you from anything, Quinn. I hope you don't hate me for that." She tightened her arm around Quinn's waist and shifted so she could look at Quinn. She braved a smile. "You…you made me so happy. And I'm glad we got to have make-up sex." She giggled at that, almost expecting Quinn to blush. "You will always be my happy ending, Quinn." She moved forward to kiss Quinn on the lips one last time. "I love you." She leaned back and held Quinn's face. "I look forward to seeing you again, darling."

* * *

Dr. Costner came in with a resident and an intern at 1:00 that afternoon. He stood on one side of the bed while they all stood on the opposite. He stared at them, waiting for the nod of consent to come. His gaze was directed at Frannie, because he knew Rachel would never be able to give him a nod, despite the fact that she was the one who signed the paper.

Rachel sat on the chair, holding Quinn's hand to her lips with her eyes closed. Frannie gave her sister one last look while she was alive, and then nodded. Dr. Costner bowed his head and began removing the machines sustaining Quinn's life. When everything else was off besides the heart monitor, he decided to stay behind.

They listened as the beeps began to grow longer, slower, and with more and more distance between each one, until it finally flat-lined. A long beep sounded. Dr. Costner weakly reached out to turn it off. He glanced at Quinn's family and friends before clearing his throat.

"Time of death: 1312."

 


	22. Epilogue

_One year later_

Rachel woke up before the alarm even rang. She turned the alarm off and dressed up in her running clothes, pulling her hair into a ponytail. She attached her iPod to her arm and texted Kurt to tell him where she was going.

She sneaked out of her apartment and went to the nearby park. It was dawn, so she was able to enjoy the privacy of the hour, as few people were there at such an early hour. She normally wouldn't wake up this early just for a run, but today was special day. She needed to get her mind off things. At least for awhile. She had been trying to get her mind off things for a year now. Running was the best option she had.

So she ran. She followed the trail, music full blast in her ears as she watched the few early risers running. She admired the sunrise, the tranquility of the morning. She was getting her mind off things.

Two weeks after the funeral, she put her mansion up for sale and moved back into the apartment Quinn had never had the heart to sell. She thanked Santana for not listening to Quinn about throwing their stuff away. She withdrew from the movie, not that it would continue now that their main income was cut off.

She took a break for five months. She spent those months traveling to places she and Quinn had wanted to visit before their breakup five years ago. She ate cheese in Rome. She drank wine in Paris. She went to Buckingham Palace in London. She took a trip to Blue Mountain in Australia. She climbed Mount Kinabalu in Malaysia. She went to a live sex show in Amsterdam.

She kept imagining what it would feel like if a certain blonde had gone to all these places with her. Quinn would probably eat more cheese than her in Rome. She would try to stop Rachel from drinking too much wine. She would buy a ridiculous top hat in London and pretended to be British. She would oblige to Rachel's wish and take photos of Rachel in ridiculous poses with The Three Sisters. She would carry Rachel up Mount Kinabalu when she was tired. She would moan and complain during the live sex show, but watch it anyway because it was something Rachel wanted to do.

Santana and Brittany came to see her in Paris. "To make sure you didn't French kiss some French dude," Santana had claimed. But Rachel knew they were just worried.

She knew Puck was worried when he showed up while she was in Amsterdam. She knew Sam was worried when he decided to climb Mount Kinabalu with her. She knew Kurt was worried when he impulsively went with her to Australia. She knew Finn and Marley were worried when they visited her in Rome. She knew they were all worried.

Rachel returned to New York five months later, all too refreshed and energized;worrying her friends even more. She reassured them that she was fine and immediately went back to work. She did photo shoots. She signed a contract to release a new album. She joined two movie projects and did a guest role on TV. What they didn't know was that she had been taking pills every night to stay awake. She knew that she would always dream of Quinn if she fell asleep and wake up to find Quinn no longer around.

Until one day she collapsed on the set of one of her movies and was rushed to the hospital. Dr. Costner sat down with her and gave her a stern talking to. He told her she couldn't survive this way. He told her it was time to move on.

"Quinn won't be happy if you're not okay."

She supposed that sentence was her tipping point. She then made the effort to begin the long, arduous road to recovery. She laughed more. She smiled more. She started making the apartment look…right. She browsed through photo albums and smiled instead of cried. She went to sleep and would sometimes wake up crying because  _Quinn wasn't there_. But, at least she was recovering.

She still refused to go to the cemetery. Her friends had all dropped hints that they would go to the cemetery with her, but she would only respond with a nod and go on about her business.

Her album was going to be released today.

It had been a year since Quinn's death.

She slowed down to a jog and sat down on a bench, propping her elbows on her knees and her chin on her folded hands. She squinted at the rising sun, glowing a beautiful orange all over the park. She licked her lips and pursed them. She breathed slowly and quietly. Her heart thumped rhythmically against her chest.

It had been a year.

* * *

Rachel came back to her apartment to find everyone gathered in her living room, with the exception of Kurt who was fluttering around the kitchen. She wasn't surprised. She was used to their impromptu visits to check on her. They never stopped worrying.

She pulled the earphones out of her ear and gave them a curt nod before swiftly shutting her bedroom door behind her. She propped her body against the door and slid down to her ass. She pulled her knees up to her chest, wrapping her arms around herself. She leaned her forehead against her forearms and just breathed.

There wasn't anything else she could do.

* * *

Santana and Brittany had woken up and they didn't bother to have morning sex.

Kurt had woken up snuggled in Blaine's arms, only to remember what day it was. He just dragged himself out of bed and showered.

Puck had woken up and cried a little into his pillow.

Sam didn't even sleep. He took a bottle of whiskey out to his balcony at one in the morning and made a toast towards the sky lit with stars.

Finn didn't sleep as well. He left his girlfriend in bed after sex and went out to the living room and turned on Discovery Channel. He smoked.

Marley had woken up and she stared at the ceiling, wondering if someone was watching over them.

They all had a silent agreement to be at Rachel's apartment that morning. So they all came. Finn and Kurt assured their respective partners that they would be okay, and went to Rachel's. Kurt announced that Rachel had gone to a run and they all understood why.

Not a word had been spoken since. Kurt started to make breakfast while the rest just sat in the living room, thinking about the same thing. They braced themselves for a train wreck of a Rachel Berry when they heard keys jingling in at the door, but they didn't see a train wreck of a Rachel Berry. She looked fine.

Physically.

She wasn't, really. Her eyes were duller. Her shoulders slouched. Her movements were slower. Her smile was forced when she nodded at them.

None of them were fine today.

* * *

Rachel was quiet on the drive to the studio. She was to be on  _Good Morning, New York_  in an hour. They all watched as Kurt and his glam team applied makeup to Rachel's face and dressed her in a white skirt and a pair of black pumps. When she was about to make her appearance, they all pulled her into a group hug.

"Breathe," Kurt whispered in her ear and pushed her to the stage with a smile.

She grinned at the audience and waved at them as the host led her to the armchair. She sat down and put her hands on her lap, her legs crossed. He greeted her enthusiastically and asked her routine questions. She answered some of his questions with ridiculous past experiences.

His grin dimmed a little when it was almost the end of their session. He cleared his throat and folded his hands on the desk.

"Rachel, I have come to understand that today is a rough day for you, is it not?" he asked soberly.

Her grin softened into a smile and she took a deep breath. She gulped and nodded slowly. "Yes, it is," her voice sounded hoarser than before. She reached up to brush a strand of hair behind her ear. "As you all might know," she glanced at the audience, "I lost someone very special to me this time last year. Quinn…" she drifted off. Her throat felt dry and her eyes watered. She looked down at her lap and blinked a few times before looking back up at the host, hungry for details and yet still having the decency to look a little apologetic. "Quinn Fabray was very important to me. She will always be important to me. She saved me, in every aspect. If it wasn't for her, I probably wouldn't be alive today. If it wasn't for her, I wouldn't know what true love really is. If it wasn't for her, I wouldn't understand the meaning of happiness."

She could hear someone telling her that time was almost up in her earpiece, but the host seemed to be ignorant of that and only nodded in understanding.

"I was off the radar for five months last year. I had to take a break. I was devastated, to be honest. I traveled everywhere, imagining Quinn with me. I was…I took pills so I wouldn't have to sleep because I didn't want to dream of Quinn. I wasn't me. Until the day I collapsed, and someone talked to me. And now I'm here, releasing a new album, because I've come to understand that she wouldn't want me to wallow in a corner and go to waste. She's always told me what a talent I am. She was my biggest fan. And I don't want to disappoint my biggest fan."

The host nodded and apologized to her because the time was up. He told the audience about her album hurriedly and she was ushered off stage. She was faced with a group hug again as soon as she was off camera and she welcomed it.

"Can you guys please take me somewhere before we go home?" she pleaded quietly into someone's shoulder.

* * *

Her dads and Frannie called her while they were in the car, each asking how she was. They told her she was so brave. They told her they loved her. She loved them too. She picked up a gardenia corsage with light green ribbon around it at the florist before they reached their destination.

Rachel looked up at the looming gate, mocking her with its tall presence. Finn gently wrapped an arm around her waist and pushed the gate open. They passed by a number of headstones before they reached the one that had been haunting them for a year. Rachel placed the bouquet at the headstone.

She could almost hear Quinn sternly saying, " _Come here_ ," and scolding her for not coming before now. She would've gone if she could, but she was scared of what she would become if she saw the headstone before today. She wasn't ready. She was ready now.

She traced the U with her finger and smiled.

"It was still her best birthday," Santana said softly. Rachel looked over her shoulder at the Latina. "The day you got her the corsage and brought her to Coney Island. It was still her best birthday. I'm sure you found the corsage in the apartment." Rachel nodded mutely.

"You did save her, Rachel," Puck then said. "You said that you hated that you didn't do anything to save her before she was taken off…you know. But you did save her. She probably would have been an addict in some slum if she hadn't met you."

They remained silent for almost fifteen minutes. "Can you…can I be alone for a few minutes?" Rachel requested quietly, her eyes not leaving the letters carved into the headstone.

She could hear from the shuffling footsteps that they were leaving to wait in the cars. She thanked them quietly for being so willing. She shifted slowly to sit against the side of the headstone. She looked up at the clear sky. She grinned when she saw one of the clouds shaped like a lamb.

Quinn's favorite animal.

She pulled out her phone and went on Twitter. She tweeted about her album, because it was necessary, then she began scrolling through her mentions. She laughed at some, reading them out loud, hoping Quinn would hear them. She could almost hear Quinn laughing. Another fifteen minutes later, she pushed herself to her feet and stowed her phone in her purse.

She gave Quinn's headstone one last glance and nodded to herself. She was ready. For what, she didn't know yet. Maybe for another love. Maybe for a new chapter. Maybe for a brand new journey with her career. But she was ready. 365 days made her ready.

She turned around and strolled down the path to the cemetery gates.

" _I'm proud of you_ ," Quinn's voice rang out behind her.

She halted and slowly, so slowly she turned around; a translucent Quinn seemed to be standing there, in her favorite shirt and her favorite jacket and her favorite jeans. She was beaming proudly at Rachel. The brunette knew this was probably a figment of her imagination, or she was the only one who could see Quinn. Or maybe she was going crazy. It didn't matter. This was probably the one last time she'd see Quinn in this lifetime.

" _I'm proud of you, Rachel_ ," probably-imagination Quinn said again.

Rachel inclined her head and smiled wider at Quinn. "I love you."

Quinn beamed. She gestured at her own headstone. " _I'll always be here, watching. Waiting._   _I love you. And you will shine so bright. I know."_

Rachel felt a tear slid down her cheek and she closed her eyes after she took a long glance at the ghost of Quinn. A long moment later, she opened them. Quinn was gone. She huffed a shuddering breath and turned back around to the exit. Finn opened the door for her and she slid into the car.

"Let's go!" she said with a smile.

She wasn't going to disappoint Quinn after all.

 _For always_.


End file.
